CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(l\/lonographs) 


iCIVIH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Inttituta  for  Hittorical  IMIcroraproductiont  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microraproductiona  hiatoriquaa 


1995 


i 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  technique  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  onginal 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 

r~7\      Coloured  covers  / 
^^^      Couverture  de  couleur 

I     j      Covers  damaged  / 

' — '      Couverture  endommagee 

I     I      Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
— '      Couverture  restauree  et/ou  pelliculee 

I     I      Cover  title  missing  /  Le  litre  de  couverture  manque 

I      I      Coloured  maps  '  Cartes  geographiques  en  couleur 

FT]      Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 

Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

ryi      Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
'-^      Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

I      I      Bound  with  other  material  / 

Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 

I     I      Only  edition  available  / 
' — '      Seule  edition  disponible 

1  j  Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serree  peut 
causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de 
la  marge  interieure. 

I  I  Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming  '  II  se  peut  que  certaines 
pages  blanches  ajoutees  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  ete  filmees. 


L'Instltut  a  microfilme  le  meilleur  examplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
ete  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire  qui  sont  peut-etre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite. 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifications  dans  la  meth- 
ode  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiques  ci-dessous. 

I     j      Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I     [      Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommagees 

I     I      Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaurees  et/ou  pelliculees 

Fy]      Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  decolorees.  lachetees  ou  piquees 

I     I      Pages  detached/ Pages  detachees 

r^      Showthrough  /  Transparence 

I     I      Quality  of  print  varies  / 

' — '      Qualite  inegale  de  I'impression 

I     I      Includes  supplementary  material  / 

Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

I  I  Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image  /  Les  pages 
totalement  ou  partiellement  obscurcies  par  un 
feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure,  etc.,  ont  ete  filmees 
a  nouveau  de  la?on  a  obtenir  la  meilleure 
image  passible. 

I  I  Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
' — '  discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the 
best  possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant 
ayant  des  colorations  variables  ou  des  decol- 
orations sont  filmees  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la 
meiHeur  image  possible. 


0 


Additiona!  comments  / 
Commentaires  supplementaires: 


Irregular  pagination   :    [l]-33,  38-39,  36-37,  3*-35,  40-239,   [l ]  p. 


This  Item  is  filmtd  at  the  rtduction  ratio  chacktd  below/ 
Ce  document  est  filme  au  taux  de  rMuction  indique  ci-dessous. 
lOX  14X  18X 


J 

— 

□ 

n 


Th«  copy  filmad  h«r«  hu  bmn  raproducad  thanks 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'axamplaira  film*  fut  raproduit  grica  i  la 
g*n4ra«it<i  da: 

Bibliothequa  nationale  du  Canada 


Tha  imaga*  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  ba»t  quality 
pouibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
o«  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  tpacificauoni. 


Onginal  copias  in  printad  papar  covar*  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impraa- 
sion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copias  ar'  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  Illustratad  impras- 
sion,  and  anding  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  imprassion. 


Tha  last  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  —^  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"!,  or  tha  symbol  V  Imaaning  "END"), 
whichavar  applias. 

Maps,  platas,  ehaas,  ate,  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  axposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  *ia  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nanata  da  l'axamplaira  filma,  at  an 
conformita  avac  las  conditions  du  contral  da 
(ilmaga. 

Laa  axamplairas  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
papiar  ast  imprimSa  sent  filmSs  an  commancani 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  tn  larminant  soil  pat  la 
d9tni4T*  paga  qui  compona  una  amprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  laa  autras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  filmte  an  commancant  par  la 
pramiara  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta, 

Un  das  symbolas  suivants  spparaitra  sur  la 
darniira  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha.  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  ^»  signifia  "A  SUIVRE ',  la 
symbols  ▼  signifia  "FIN", 

Las  cartas,  planchas,  tablaaux.  ate,  pauvant  aira 
filmte  t  das  taux  da  rSduction  diffaranis. 
Lorsqua  la  documant  ast  trop  grand  pour  itra 
raproduit  an  un  saul  clich*,  il  ast  films  i  partir 
da  I'angia  supAriaur  gaucha,  da  gaucha  *  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  baa,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagas  n*cassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
lllustrant  la  mathoda. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICROCOPY    RESOIUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  \tO  TEST  CHART  No,  2) 


_^  APPLIED  INAHGE     Inc 

^^  1653    East    Uoin    Street 

S^S  Rochester,    New   York         14609       USA 

'■^=  (?16)    'i82  -  0300  -  Pi-,:ne 

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{'•VxJ^  *«^Mf   5 


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(A 


Xd         /'^SS. 


TtlK  BIKDHOP  THE 

AiXI)  OTHER  I>OEMS 

HY 
AHTHtJH  .TOWN   I.OOKHAHT 

Author  nf  ••Th.M„.4„,„fj,i„„,^,,  ,,  „  „,,jj^  ,,^^ 

N..rraKU:ll.'u-,"  "The  lliart  „„  ,he  .Sleeve," 

"The  Papers  i.f  Pastor  Kelix," 

Etc.,  Kte. 


PRINTEn  AND  PUBLISHED  VoR  THE 

Author  By  C.  r.  Ixsuoee 

WlNTERPORT,  Me. 
lOOO 


70831 


COPYBIOHT,    1909,    BY 
ABTHUB  J.    LOOKHABT,    WiNTEBPOBT,  MAINE. 


TO  MY  BROTHER, 

Tl^e  Rev.  Burtor)  W,  Lockhart,  D,  D., 

OF  MANCHESTER,  N,  H., 

I  Iqscribe  This  Volurqe. 


Thir  Hhadowii  wingn  tslioiild  darken  (ill  thti 
flour,  •' 

Thi)'  t)ii)u  miint  shivrr  in  thf  whiter  void  ; 

r/i'i'   Imnfier  rtUrr  at  thy  unbarred  door. 

Anil  thou  haxt  jtenurn  H'hin  thou  art  old; 

Tho'  with  (I  nignard  hand  th/i  bread  be 
doled  ; 

'/'/«/  few  thi/  phiaxuren,  oft  and  keen  thi/ 

pahiH  ; 
(  Yet,  harhi;/  lore  wit/iiu  thi/  boxoin'x  fold, 
While  pit,/  to  thi/  fiiniixhid  heart  retnainn;) 
If,  when  men  suffer,  thou  i-aust  feel  their 

throes. 

And,  when  thou  iiourjht  eanst  r/ive  hast  yet 
a  tear  ; 

Ij   God  hath   made  th<  i    sheinr  of  AJan's 

woes, — 
7V»f/  r/reater  far  fhi/  sorrow  maij  appear, 
Thou  hast  a  priceless  ifift,  he  eannot  hold. 
Whose  Life  is  Pleasure,  and  whose  God  i3 
Onld. 


CON'JKMS 


The  Birds  of  the  (;r,,ss 

What  I'ri>nf.' 

Tlie  Kiid  of  .s„ng 

All  :  Then-.' 

Tlie  Difference 

The  (;aiia<la-liird 

Niagara 

Wliy,    War/ 

Song 

Blind  Kyes 

A  Toast 

Tlie  Hirth  of  Music 

Oh.  My  : 

On  Linekin 

The  Way  of  Life 

The  Clianipion 

Over  tlie  Hills  Where  Spices  (Jrow 

Presumption 

When  In  the   Maple  Trees 

"Conrace  V   Me  Said 

The  Call  of  the  Sea 

Bright  Were  the  Hours 

Faith's  Voyager 

Atigratinn 

Listen.  O  Land  I 

Oenrge  Martin 

Acadie 

November  Wind 

The  Old  Days 

Mother 

A wav,  and  Away 

Rreeds  Ilill 

Shores  of  Mavooshen 

Poe 

.Tack  Dandelion 

The  *  rt  of  Tennys'-n 

Marcli.  in  the  South 


» 
10 
11 
12 
12 
13 
14 
14 
16 
17 
17 
18 
18 
IB 
20 
22 
32 
34 
34 
35 
85 
3T 


!59 
40 
41 
41 
43 
44 
44 
45 
46 
48 
48 
49 
49 


A  (Jouvivial  Kpistle 
llirclies 

Tlie  Destined  IJour 

March  tinuw 

Tlie  Departing  Vear 

Liuvuln 

iiuwe 

<J,  Maizie  I 

Spring's  JTeedoni 

To  Ueorge  .Martin 

Chaniplain 

Tennyson 

Violets 

Uonie  Discipline 

O  He  Thou  Strong 

Summer  on  the  l'en.,bscot    ■ 

The  Winds 

Copernicus  and  Darwin 

Lisht  and  Shadow 

The  North- West  Arm 

The  Crystal  Kill 

Milton 

Love  s  Expression 

Lines,  Written  Under  A  Portrait 

Kepeat  the  Song 

The  Kaith-Men 

The  World 

Frances  K.  Willard 

A  Uallad  of  the  Three  Maries 

A  Song  of  Kxile 

The  Happiest  Kingdom 

Theodore  Harding  Hand 

April 

Kroisos 

Statesman  and  Poet 

The  fShips  of  the  Czar 

.Inno's  Favorite 

Hymn  For  a  Childs'  Flower  Festival 

The  British  Flag 

The  Rrnok 

The  Hills  of  Scotland 


60 
34 

r,i 
r>a 

57 

68 

5U 

60 

00 

01 

«1 

Oil 

08 

04 

04 

06 

00 

70 

70 

71 

71 

12 

7a 

73 

75 

TO 

78 

78 

78 

81 

88 

84 
85 
86 


89 
90 
81 
9S 


"«"«  li.irne  Hr„„k 
Song 

^i-'i'liersons  Kutreaty 

L/Uua  ^ 

HooU 

Munis 

Tile  Tlirush 

The  Doves 

Victoria 

Tlie(irave  Within  My  Heart 

, ,  'I-  Kpita,,h  „f  KeaL         ' 

II  is  Also  is  Vanity 

When  Doctor  Luther  Can.H 

The  Making  of  .\,«„ 

ine  Lonely  Pine 

To  the  hiin 

Koot  at  ri  lllossom 

My  Hope  is  in  Thee 

J  lie  Messfiiger 

An  Autuninal  llynin 

The  Lobsterman 

To  John  Inirie 

At  the  Uethel 

The  Prisoner  of  the  lies  Du  .Saint 

Tie-Sonn^^Man,  At.salon, 

War 

Mela„r|„l,„„  ^  Watch«o,<i 

At  Maiiipden 

The  r,„k  an.l  the  Pearl 
•chickadee 

The  Kaijle 

Tamp-Kire  Memories 
To  Halpli  Shaw 
Who's  Who  ? 
A  Proper  Sprine-Sone 
The  St-.n..  \Vall         ^ 
Eneine  Kield 
Winjjs 


1)7 
100 
lUl 
10:.' 
1(W 
KM 
lO.-) 
lOti 
107 
107 
1(W 

loo 
no 
111 
ii:i 

114 

n:> 
117 

110 

119 

12.1 
120 
121 
124 

IL'B 

127 
120 
I-'!" 
1«0 

l:!l 

132 

138 

VU 

186 

137 

138 

143 

144 

145 

146 

147 


The  1"^"  '"  ^'"^  >•»''« 

/.ula 

Terrill 

TJ'e  vyi,ii,.p„„r.„,|, 

1  '«  Murmur  of  the  ,-ines 

li.espauisi,  A,„,a,Ja 

{"■^.'"•''"""''"laMd  strait 

The  Midnight  Vijril 

Mountain  and  1'„k 

All  Autumnal  Letter 

Whittier 

Tlie  I'lea 

Felloivshii) 

Corn  Of  the  Mountain 

1  alestina 

To  Madam  Dreyfus 

Hymn   Sung  at  the  Dedication  of  Mary 
Moody  Memorial  Chapel 

^acer  ,lesu,  ('are  Christe     ^ 

Harmony  flail 

Celestial  ('apers 
<iuidamac 

doctor  Rohin 

Cant 

Despatch 

What  Right  ? 

John  Hay 

'iod's  Alchemy 

The  ^ren  of  Maine 

Sonnet  On  Seeing  the  Ameriean  Flag   To. 

KvenT^hl';:  :'"""""''""•''""•:"'"'-' 

Roosevelt 

^^y  (,'ontent 

Down  Tn  Maine 

To  Titmarsh 

The  Aiitocrati"al  Critic 

The  Mountain  Pine 


148 

150 

150 

16Si 

168 

164 

.67 

158 

104 

165 

166 

1«9 

170 

174 

175 

177 

177 

180 

181 

182 
188 
184 
188 
101 
103 
105 

m 

198 
109 

ino 

L'OO 

202 
20:! 
203 
203 
204 
205 
205 
20,% 


speak,  riifi, : 

iliui.ks,  for  t""  V 
,^,';,'"'"  ••  Mother  ; 

I'.cking  ti.e  Pears 

1    eDr^ani.D„or 
Tile  Childless 
To  A  Krierid 

?,""«•  '■"'•"■u  Neliilakiii 

Under  JJeath 

O  Mary  ' 

Tlu-,-,p„r 

Israfil 

Lines' l''?A';'"'^'"^*'Kn„wles 
x^  nes  In  A  (.iiest-H.„,k 

T..e^Kn«.,t..f  Tyrants 


207 

20S 
I'O!) 
I'll 
21.-. 
UIO 
21S 

I'ao 

22:) 

2l'4 

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226 
228 
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232 
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asa 

Siii 
23S 
287 
237 
289 


TIIK  IllUDS  OF  TIIK  Citoss. 
Ys^lllIiK    ill  his  agiiny  tli«   Savinr  Imii);, 
Three  wandering  hirds  alighti>il  mi  Mis 
Uruss  : 
"  Sti/rl:  /I'liii  .'    Stiirk  liinii  '.    Sli/rl;  laiiii  '.  " 

the  foreiiiiist  cried  ; 
••Stri'iiKthfii  onrSaviorii.  this  crushing  wiie  '." 
It  was  the  Hturk  ;    and,  ever  since  tliat  lumr. 
For  strength  and  lijessing  liath  that  liinl  lieen 
named. 

Thi'n  cried  thn  second,    circling,    in  distress, 
'■'Si'dl  liiiiii  !  Sriil  htiiii  '.    Si(tl  Ikiiii  .' "  yet 

attain  ; 
•' Refresli  lliin  !  'tis  our  siifTi-rliic  Savior  dear! 
lieliokl     lliiii  dyinL'  I  '"      'Twai      lie    Swallow 

..pake  ; 
And  ever  since  that  liour  t!-.e  sons  of  men 
Look  on  the  Swallow  with  a  loving  eye. 

Tlie    Turtle-Dove    came  lluttering    wlicii    she 

saw 
OurKunVriiig  Lords  distress,  and  softly  ..  rVd: 
"Kuril    :    (til.  Kiiric  .'  Oh,  my  dyiiij;  lord  V 
And  dear  the  Turtle-Dove  is  to  our  heart. 
The  Cross-bill  came,  and  made  a  loud  lament. 
Twisting  his  beak  to  pluck  the  nails  away  ; 
And  well  that  bird  shall  evermore  lie  loved. 
Then  darkly  swept,  upon  ill-omened  wing. 
One    crying,— •'  /'«f„ /i,((„  /    y>,„  „   li,„ii  .' " 

harsh  and  long  ; 


Jl    ^. 


•'i!>-^i^ 


10     W^s  9wM  ®f  Whs  ®rna)8. 


Punish  and  torture  Him,  who  hangs  accursed' 
That  A  rcli-decfiver,  bidding  on  tlie  tree  '.  " 
Then  off  he  tlew  :  and,  ever  since  that  liour. 
The  Lapwing  (lies,  a  crying,  evil  bird, 
Low  over  earth  upon  a  halting  wing. 

Be  comforted,  ye  sympathetic  souls  ! 
Who  to  thu  pained  your  consolation  bring,        ' 
And  to  the  hurt,  your  liealing  !    Joy  to  you, 
Ye    cheerful    souls,  who    scatter   wide    your 

cheer   ! 
Ye  pitying  ones,  be  loved  ;  for  ever  dear 
The  generous  spirit  is  to  pitying  man. 

But  woe  to  you,  bird  of  the  doleful  cry  I 
And  woe  to  you,  scornful  and  saturnine. 
Vindictive  and  incriniinative  soul. 
Who  niakest  thyself  judge,  and  criest  blame  ! 
For  thou  art  loved  by  neither  God  nor  Man, 
Nor  tindest  mercy  where  thou  Iiast  not  shown. 


^ 


WHAT    PROFIT  ? 

^11  :    what  avails  to  gild,   to  consecrate  a 
crime  ? 

What  profit,   all  the  blood-stained  gold  the 
Destinies  would  grudge  us, 

If,  after  all,  we  die,  scarred  and  outworn  with 
Time, 
And  God  shall  judge  us  ? 


®!fi?  MuM  ®f  illfi?  ©roaa.     11 


What  good,  at  last,  tliat  we  heap  gain  on  gain. 
Where  woman's   woe  and  childliood's  want 

with  ^^»a':'•^o  li->ve  endued  ^is; 
If,  at  tiie  end,  tliere  wait  tlie  everlasting  pain— 

The  curse  of  Judas  ? 

Ah,  why  woo  hate  and  wratli,  instead  of  love? 
Why  vex  our  fellow-men,  and  slight  our  God, 
and   grieve  him  ? 
Why  harden  moreour  heart,  while  Jesus  pkads 
above,  — 

"Father,  forgive  liim  .'" 


THE  END  OF  SONG. 

Aiid  sill  riMy  cm,   tnuiiiphiiijr, 
The  old  citrthniunsion  through 

Out  iiiiirches  the  lust  minsiiel  ;— 
He  IS  the  lust  iimii,  too, 

Anastatils  Ghln. 

F  SONG'S  divine  succession  sweet. 

Say,  can  there  ever  be  an  end  ?  — 
Apollo's  golden  reign  complete. 

The  Muse's  latest  sonnet  penned  ? 
Nay,  not  while  rosy  Morning  breaks. 

While  Evening  bat!)es her  wings  in  dew; 
Not  whil ,)  from  slumber  Love  awakes. 
And  Heaven  again  makes  all  things  new. 

Not  till  tlie  Spring  no  more  returns. 
And  hushed  is  Robin's  cheery  note, 


12 


n 


And  tio  man  more  of  .Snmmer  learns 

From  Hob-o  -l.incoln's  madcap  throat. 
Not  wliile  tlie  lihiebird's  carol  still 

From  winter  tluiils  oi)r  greening  vale; 
Not  while  we  Icnow  our  Whip-poor-will, 

Or  ■•  'igland's  Lark  and  Nightingale. 
Because  our  Sliakespeare  lies  in  dust. 
Because  our  Milton  sings  no  more, 
Fails  Song's  supreme,  immortal  trust,— 

Is  her  Iiarmonious  mission  o'er  ? 
By  all  the  passion  of  our  heart, 
By  all  our  yearnings,  all  our  dreams, 

Suns  may  decline,  and  suns  depart, 

Still  on  the  sacred  lustre  streams. 
Still  Music  lives  for  waking  ears. 
Still  Beauty  glows  for  opening  eyes  : 

The  baid,  the  minstrel,  disappears, 

The  race  of  poets  never  dies. 

AH  !    THEN  ? 
HEN  God   the  dust  of   my  heart  shall 

take 
His  Rose  and  His  Violet  to  make. 
My  Soul,  that  dearer  is  to  Him, 
Shall  brighten  'mid  His  Cherubim. 

THE  DIFFEKENCE. 
OWE'ER  we  deem  of  this  or  that,   yet 

know. 
Much  we  t'  Opinion,   much  to   Custom 
owe. 


&;$  ©risaa,       13 


r     -fi^'^V  tlie  s 

tV   And  red 

^    And  gol. 


See  !    yon   Zenana-wonian,    jiassing   by, 
Veiled,  yef  disrobed  almost  unto  tbe  tbisli, 
Burns  with  tlie  sense  of  slianie  at  the  disgrace 
Of  her  i.nci.vered  Knglish  sister's  face  ; 
While  the  pale  lady,  in  anstere  dismay 
To  meet  her  thus  upon  tlie  public  way, 
Exclaims,—   "How  dares  she  thus  abroad  to 

roam  ! 
Why  don-t  she  dress  Iierself,  or  stay  at  home?" 
THE    C'ANADA-HIKD. 
i  ssveet-scented  Clierry  is  snowing. 
1  red  tlie  Maple-keys  are  growing, 
I  golden  tlie  Dandelion  is  blowing, 
I  listen  to  hear  the  silence  stirred 
By  tUe—xirirt,  sweet  C(uut(la-bird. 
Other  birds  are  here,  and  tl.jir  song  is  sweet. 
But  the  voices  cf  Spring  are  not  complete 
Till  we  hear  liim  Iiis  golden  notes  repeat  ;— 
Jrost  liquid  note  ear  ever  heard. 
Of  the— sweet,  sweet,  Cnnrtda-hird. 
O  ,ae  world  seems  dark,  and  the  range  seems 

narrow 
Of  our  life  when  the  wintry  winds  do  harrow; 
Hut  'tis  changed  with  the  note  of  the  first 
Song-Sparrow  I 
Our  boundless,  far-away  dreams  are  stirred 
By  t\\e—niiret,  sweet,  Canada-Bird. 
IMs  silver  clarion  exalts  the  day. 
And  his  music  chatmeth  evening  away,— 


14 


M  Si!ji?  ®r00a. 


Ay,  niglit  is  broken  by  liis  glad  lay  ! 

As  If  he  could  never  enough  be  heard 

Our — nifect,  nwcct,  C'lnuda-Bird. 

NIAIJAKA. 

Will  it  he  :i    Xiiijiiira  of  wheel-pits   ami  tail. races   and 
factorywastLs   ? 

J.    IIOKACF.    Ml    FAHI-AND, 

r  TE  VENEKABLE  WATERS  !  that  declaim 
v2l    Of  lioar  Antiquity  and  deeds  remote, 
^^    And  from  the  hollow  of  that  thundious 

thioat 
Breath'st  thoujiht  to  put  our  shallow  schemes 

to  shame  ! 
Before  tlie  Norsemen  or  Columbus  came 

Westward  across  th"  untried  Atlantic  wave  ; 
Ay,  ere  the  Red  Sea  saw  tlie  guiding  Flame 

That  led  the  hosts  of  Israel,  thou  didst  rave 
With  thy  eternal  tongue  of  fuming  waters  ! 
And  shall   the  mongering  hand  of  heedless 
men 

Witli  scornful  touch  thy  loveliness  disdain  ? 
Arise  !  ye  beauty-loving  sons  and  daughters  ! 
The  Sovereign  Spirit  cf  this  vocal  glen 
Shall  give  you  thanks  out  of  his  awful  fane! 


WHY  WAR? 
H,  MEN  !  wherefore 
Red-h  .nded  War  ? 
Must  West  and  East 


®!fe  Slraa  @f  Mp  CiraHa.     15 


Ilaste  tf)  prepare 
The  Uaveirs  feast  ? 

O  Hrutliers  I  Say, 
Wliat  need  of  fray  '.' 
The  Christmas  Chimes 
Forbid,  to-day. 
This  first  of  crimes  ! 
For  what  (Jold  Fleece 
Hreak  the  World's  peace  ?- 
Let  Argo's  sail, 
III  (iaul,  or  (ireece, 
For  Love  avail. 

Peace,  broodingly 
II(dd  land  and  sea  ! 
On  sea  and  shore, 
Let  brothers  be 
Foreverniore. 
O  tcngiie  1   be   still, 
That  bodest  ill  '. 
The   bitter  Star 
Flames  with   wild   will 
In  wasting  War  ! 
Say,  Britain  :    Say, 
America   ! 
Will  ye  be  friends  ? 
A  royal   V/^A   ! 
From  heaven  descends. 
Say,  Germany  ! 
And  then,  Cathay  ! 


16     Uk 


% 


mU  mt  ©fjr  (Swaa. 


And  thou,  Japan 

I  hear  ye  say, 

»V  11'//./,  /     Ijv 


-I  A'  .' 


SONG. 

^"'"'    ^'ov^'-Trh   ""^''''^^  ="■"   >-  ^"" 
And  ye  wh„  renew  the  bright  visions  .,f 

JOlltll, 

Who  dream  not  of  Sea  and  of  Forest  in  vain 
Come,  seek  the  bold  shores  and  green  islands 
of  Maine. 
C'iiorus  : 
Come,  Come,  O  ye  weary  ones,  come  • 
There's  balm  in^the  winds  and  the  waters  of 

Ye  brain-weary  ones,  j.ent  in  cities  so  long 
Come,  revel  in  meadows  of  Summer  and  Song- 
W.ld  rocks  of  >ravooshen  by  surfy  seas  chid 

And  aU  the  delights  of  the  calm  Pema.,uid 
Chorus  : 

Come,  Come,  O  ye  weary  ones,  come- 
^"d  rest  in  the  bosom  of  calm  Pemaquid. 
Come,  pensive  and  gay  ones,  come,  youtl,ful 

and  old. 
Here  are  treasures  uncounted,  unpurchased  of 

gold  ; 
The  glow  of  glad  cheeks  by  the  Sea's  heaving 
plain,  ^ 


The  light  of  glad 


Maine. 


eyes  'mid  the  wild 


woods  of 


HuhB  (if  Mki  CsTcaa.     17 


Chorus  : 
Ci)me,  (Collie,  O  ye  weary  ones,  conie, 
Tlieros  balm  in  the  winds  and  wild  waters 
of  Maine. 
We  will  conip,  sweet  Jlavo(isIien,  obeying  your 

cnll  : 
You  have  lasting  deliglits,  you  have  pleasures 

for  all  ; 
To  your  briijlit  fall'ng  river,  your  ocean-beat 

shore. 
The  hearts  of  your  oliildren  must  turn  ever- 
more. 
Chorus  : 
Come,  Come,  weary  one,  come  '. 
The   heart    of    Mavooshen   gives   welcome, 
once  more. 


I 


BLIND   EYES. 
T^YRANT  and  Demagogue  refuse  to  see 
l^     The  Star  that  ruled  their  fortune  blane 
and  fall  ;  Cv'vlp.r-i 

They  maiiilen,  while  the  hand  of  Destiny 
Writes,  ".l/cnt,  TckrI,''  or  their  palace 
wall. 


W 


A     TOAST 

FoK  TiiK  25th   of  Janiakv. 
•fjHILE  Helios  rules  the  morning  sky. 
While  ('ynthia  leads  the  hosts  of  night. 
While  a  tear  circles  in  tlie  eye, 


18 


»« 


^i  ®lfp  dmBz. 


■<''"le  Jov  ami  i      ""''•'■<■  I.:.,,,,,:, 

w<.newa.^r  ;::«:;':,;:;^'---; 

fair,  "'""""ps(),i„ps 

-"-,  ;:^:;:!^;'--'"' ------ 

^'■d 'eto„r  Toast  f.f;f  ",''""::' f'«I'->. 

>^^  <'fto„  as  ti,.  „,,;,,';';;,/'""  ■ 

«--o,„a„at;;::;r-"'-"' 

on,  jiY  , 

form.  ^'"^''"'^  '"arhle 


MUy 


§.tmB.      19 


And  gives  an  extra  tig-leaf  to  the  Mile 


'Tis  li 


Hilt—  f/i 


IS  prerogative  to  call  attention  ; 


/■rr    II n' 


l/i 


i/ltiulli    )lnl    tillliti 


"'.'/")  ,'/""    /cnoir,    irf 


Went  to  Liiicki 


ON    LINKKIN. 


-■  ifonc 


hir,  iiui^ici  ,11,  ami  IV-llow  poft  (r,,,,,.  u  illi  Ihdi 


my  Jfontlc 


b(.':iutifiil  set- 


uiuli 


cT  ii   subdued  liirlil,  ii.-  if; 


The 

>ul  in 


uaturi- mu-^cilnvcr  sombre  ICKfuils.;!,,,!  the  soft  autumn 
sky  is  like  a  tympanuM  or  great  i;ray  souiuliiiu-hell.  Von. 
iler.  the  liaker  cottage  looks  solitary  indeed.  In  his  home 
at  Troy  lie  ponders  these  Irequent  clear,  delicious  October 
day.,  :ind  would  lain  spend  them  here.  Iian  I'anry  the 
neat,  trim  cheerful  man  ol'  greenest  age,' aliiH.st  boyishly 
affected  in  the  memory  of  suniiiier  day.,  spent  here,  execu. 
tinj,'  a  quickstep  ai:;on-  his  Ijook-,  with  a  mnvcmeiit  some 
thinp  like  this Joi-rnai.  ok  Pastok  Kici.ix. 

TTjS)"*'^  we  were  down  on  Linekin, 
VA/         On  Linekin,  on  Linekin, 

When  we  were  down  on  Linekin, 
On  Linekin,  Linekin-lea, 
Then  the  welkin  was  clearest,  cleanest, 
And  the  vernal  grass  gleamed  greenest. 
And  evening  fell  serenes t. 

And  the  sun  like  a  glowing  ember 
Was  tangled  in  the  tree, — 
When  we  were  down  on  Linekin, — 
And  oh,  how  blest  were  we! 

When  wo  were  down  on  Linekin, 

On  Linekin,  on  Linekin, 
When  we  were  down  on  Linekin. 
On  Linekin,  Linekin  lea, 


20     olljr  liir&H  (if  iJfjp  ^^bb. 

O  then  the  songs  were  so  many, 

And  the  nelds  were  so  sweet  and  snnny 

And  our  hearts  were  blithe  as  any 

And  the  world  was  so  fair,'-so  fair' 
W  hen  we  were  down  on  I.inekin, 
And  Summer  days  were  there.' 
When  we  were  down  on  Linekin, 

On  Linekin,  on  Linekin, 
When  we  were  down  on  Linekin, 
On  Linekin,  Linekin  lea' 
There  was  smiling  and  rejoicing' 
Tliat  wind  and  wave  were  voicing 
Where  brightsails  were  veering  ar'-d  passing 
And  like  a  maiden's  tresses 

Flowed  the  glory  o(  the  sea 
When  we  were  down  on  Linekin  - 
And  oh,  liow  blest  were  we  !    ' 

THE  WAY  OF   LIFE 
Fromtiik    Gkkman  ok  Gokthe. 

Joh.n  \V„lft-;„,^,  Von  Gocrlu.   th,- 111.,.,., 

honor  then,  with  •,  m-,rk  !f  hi     '-""'"^"'""  "  ^'»  l'l«^ased  to 
etical  Con,p„,itio,r  '""'"  '"  ""^  '"'"'  '"  ■'?"■ 

fOW  typical  the  Mason's  ways 
Of  human  life  through  changef.,1  days' 
Therein  an  analogue  appears 

Of  his  persistence,  while  the  years 
Speed  on  to  that  eternal  state 
Forewritten  in  our  mortal  fate 


Slljf  mzhz  ®f  fcJI^ip  (JEraaa,      21 


A  misty  sea,  tlie  Future  liiilcs 


Of  joy  and  woe  tlie  chaiim'fiil  tides; 
Hut  we  will  press  straiglitfurvaid  still. 
To  meet  its  tliroiigliif;  gofxl  and  ill  ; 
H\  all  unswerved,  undaunted,  so 
We  to  our  goal  may  forward  H'>- 

And  just  before,  in  silentglooni, 
Stands  tlio  veiled  jx.rtal  of  the  tomb  ; 
Kor  liigli  and  low  it  doth  await, — 
The  end  of  human  pomp  and  state  : 
Where'er  we  pause,  or  onward  fare, 
We  know  our  march  is  ended  there. 

In  vain  we  ask,  with  yearning  fond. 
Thefoimof  that  which  lies  beyon 
Interrogate  them,  as  we  will. 
The  stars  on  high  are  silent  still; 
Silent  the  graves,  nor  make  reply 
The  dearest  lips  therein  that  lie. 

While  thou  dost  stand,  with  eager  gaze, 
Come  deep  foreboding  and  amaze  ; 
Illusive  and  phantasmal  loiins 
Disturb  thy  bosom  with  alarms  ; 
By  doubts  and  strange  misgivings  vexed, 
Even  the  bravest  are  perplexed. 

But  hear,  O  Comrade  1  and  rejoice. 
The  Poet's  and  the  Sage's  voice  ! 
From  all  the  world,  and  from  all  time, 
Come  their  high  messages  sublime  : 


22 


'hbf 


'mto  ®{  Uftf  (Si-aaa. 


''''■■'■"'"•'/[■  ^> -rf,,.,;.,,  „ 

'II II I  il  1,,^  •' 

'"""/''••""'••<  /■:iirini,,. 

■n,'«,.r'' ';"'■'""""  """■'"""'  "o-d- 

•1  IS  full.„..s.s„j,,ts  to  satisfy  -^ 

T(,e.;„„dtl,atls.j..„„f3i^,,^,,^ 

'"'""'•  '""'•■""""■•  >."-in.->r. l..s,,ai.; 
THK    CHAMI'JON. 

r^ vaunt''.'"'  '""  "'""•^"■'  '""">•'<• 

L.ke  bandits,  t„  waylay  the  heart 
And  ye,  morefrielitfni  iw./r  ' 

'^a..neKa...l,..,...,,„,4;,-^j"-..i.s- 
and  all  ' 

The  ovils  that  our  kind  befall; 
WhatUenius,  swift,  ar,nip„tent 
Mastered  by  ,.„e  divine  intent      ' 
(Liken,,,,,  „,,„  rose  in  (ialilee  1 

yet  not  the  Unseen  Powers  alone 

--...- Of  bioodt;;'Sr;e": 


Jl^f  Ctmz.        23 


\'ir  liiviii,  fraud,  irilri{;iii',  anil  Ulij;lit. 

ArniliMMlsa  ■.111' (if  Tiiik  nr  Miisiuviti'. 

A  li  I   wliii  shall  VHiii{iiisli.  nr  ri'stoD' '.' 

U  liii  sliall  tlif  hpiiili'i-  dull  anil  ilis|ii.sstss  " 

Uliiisliall  luirij;  liack  iiiili.  his  lijjhtdiuf  iiiiprc 

Thf  Tlirall  anil   Urnthfi-  whuni  ht'  Mdiild  <i|i- 

Karth  wails  her  chanipinn  Icmg— .vo /o/i//.' 
The  .'Miul,  most  gentle,  yet  must  stronf;  ; 
Tlio  Oil",  jiiiissant,  llrni  and  wise, 
WhofroTn  the  I'eiiple  shall  ari;:e, 
Til  Hash  the  liKhtning  of  Tiiiths  blade, 
And  lead  the  last  tiinniphant,  (jrand  C'insade, 
l<'oriitir  hnni,inity  liy  fins  beset, 
lie  shall  be  luie  l)y  sntterinf,'  taught  tii  fi  el. 

Till  a  lieruic  love  it   dotli  liegel 
Til  mal<e  him  Master  of  the  C   mmonweal. 

So  let  him,  ansel-like,   appear  ! 
Karlh  1  mg  has  waited-  slie  is  waiting  yet  : 
Hut  when  lie  comes  he   shall  reveal 
The  dawn  of  her  millennial  year. 

Hut  One  tliere  was.  of  power  and  worth, 
Whom  the  jiigli  (Jods  armed  and  sent  forth; 
Soldier  of  Song  and  I'riest  of   Love,  was  he. 

Who  blew  liis  golden  tnnipet  in  the  North. 
And  gave  their  watchword  whostill  hope  to  see 
The  liiieratiiJii  of  Humanity. 

His  Idade  was  Song, — its  edge  you  feel. 
As  swift  as  light,  as  keen  as  steel  : 


24 


n 


fflft 


?i?  'ih-mzB. 


And  where  it  pointed,  wherr  it  ,«•„,  ►  h 

Ti;e..appieHe«i.,„.  „„,;::::,!,':/'- -y 

And cli,„b  the  sunlit  f,ei,,l,ts  of' Weal 

tinjcy,  pui..santi„.atlithi,.e 

I„,n7,r'''""'  "«"">■  """-art  - 
Immortal  Yoiitli  !  i„  Sootia<c  „  ' 

^o,.,o.eate.a.,d::;r;:;H'::::?^:;: 

(^ottage  and  palace  clain,  thee  now 
And  men  of  high  and  h,w  ,;e.-re,. 

L.veintheIig„tofth.yvi.t„no„sbr,.w 

And  hastening  Time  win    .. 

Welcome  Ithon  tiller  of  the  soil' 
So  might  we  hail  thee  enuhv.^  <., 

;n..n  the  long  dnst:;ri-^;rr 

With  nn7'.  •  '"  ""^  y"""''"" '   '»n, 

With,  notthes.mple  wreath  thatCoilashed.' 


liifliF  in: 


Croaa.     25 


lint  Time's  larpe  laurel  on  tliy  liead, 
.Mill   tliiii"   tlM!  .splcmlor  Songs   liif;li   Masters 
may  presume. 
At  siglit  of  thy  majestic  eyes 
Will  not  Fame's  Senate  all  arise  '? 
At  sound  if  thine  inspiring    voice 
Will  not  all  hearts  leap  and  rejoice  '.* 
Tliou  ever  hast  tite  surest  way 
Of  sayiujj  what  our  hearts  would  say  ; 
And  niorninf;-dreams  of  youtli  return 
With  Bonnie  Doon  and  liannockbnrn. 

We  hear  n\ajcstic  voices  tliat  complain, — 
The    thralls  inglorious  of   titanic  pain  ; 
Hyperion,  hurled  from  his  tlirone  ; 
.Vnd  he,  denied  the  light,  with  frenzied  brain, 
Where    I'hlegethon  tUnvs  on  witli   an  unend- 
ing moan. 
And  some,  exalted  higli  w  itii  star  and  sun, 
Dwell  with   the  mountains  and  tlie  seas  alone. 
And  flourish  in  the  endless  course  they  run. 

O  mighty  .Spirits!  born  of  flame 

And  whirlwind,  speak  ye  whence  ye  came! 

We  glow  and  tremble  at  your  tones  ; 
■your  mighty  shadows  throng  the  skies; 
What  raptureg  lighten  your  glad  eyes, 
What  d(dors  darken,  and  what  cries 
Break   with  the  burden  of  infinities, — 
Prometliean  laughter,  and  Promethean  groans. 
But  you,  ye  ever-glorious  train! 


26 


©?|i?  Itirl 


M  ^hjii  (BrnzB^ 


Dra«.,,v,..tfr,„nee,.tl.«l,IUHr.vave.„f.Hef 

And  purest  pea,Isdist,)f,.,n,canl<..n.,p,,a1;. 

Cro,„eui.,l„ns„fdail<,Ms.sy,. 
Kvolv.  an  shapes  of  g,.ac..a„,I„,aj.,t,, 

.S"n.sl,r.ak...aof  .v„„r  darkest  ).;w„s  ■ 
tromyo„rCaucasiai,  ,<,u,„e.,)„„„.s  ' 
Angels  of  music  and  „f   |igi,t 

Smiling  descend:   .love's  malison 
May   rebly  smite  then,;  bloon,, as  well  as. ,M,.|,t 
tometh  their  holt-scan.  dh,o„.snp,.n 
I'll,  1"' each  (ire-stricken  one 
UnveiK  to  Man  a  beatific  sight! 
They  agonize  witli  sweet  despair, 

Vastus  the  glory  of   tlieir  ni-h't  ■ 
The>rcrow„sa..g..,t„.,y„,,„„y,^.       ;    ^^^ 

Asallthe.rangnish  were  delight 
Ka,,t,  far  aloof  we  scan  each  face  •_ 

These  are  the  Titans  of  our  race,   ' 
Whohyhi.^.  son.-.  a„,l   mighty  thoughts  are 
known  ; 

But  a«.  there  is  whose  language  i.  our  oun. 
Thine  icy  peak,  I'ronietheus,  we  dare 
rf  Aeschylus,  tl,e  bold,  will  lead  us  tliere- 
Exnlt,  w,th  Homer,  i„  tempestuous  sea. 
Or  weep  with  warm  Kuripides  ; 
With  the  unveilers  of  Tartarean  woe 
Down  to  tliH  shadowy  worl,l  we  go 
And,  with  pale  Maro,  softly  tread  ' 
The  awful  mansions  of  the  dead  ■ 


Sfei?  ItarSa  ®t  ®hs  CEroaa.      27 


^i| 


Or  listKii  ti)  Ills  voice  of    dreail, 
And  brave  tlie splendors  nt  ournwii  Maoiiides; 
i)r  bear  with  liiiii  majestic  jiart. 
And  glow  at  liis  unrivalled  art, — 
•iliakespL'are,   great  scribe  and  master   of  the 
heart  ! 
Or  we  may  scan  the  lurid  glooms 
riiat  the  Dantean  muse  presumes  ; 
Or  mount  with  him  where  starry  circles  rise, 
To  that  most  perfect  of  Celestial  blooms. 
The  mystic  Rose  of  Paradise. 

Yet,  hark  I  there  sounds  from  lowlier  ground, 
a  tone. 
So  sweetly  human  ! — this  we  own  ; 
No  thunder  of  the  Jovian  rod. 
Nor  groan  of  tlie  crushed  demigod, 
Nor  plaint  of  martial  liero  overthrown. 
Ah,  Hums  1  when  once  thy  liand  is  on  the  string, 
Wlien  once  we  hear  thy  clarion  voice  outring, 
There  sounds  a  note  we  well  may  know- 
That  burden  of  the  Common  People's  woe: 
Lamenting  now,  that  lot  forlorn 
Whereto  tlie  toiling  race  is  born, 
While  tyrant  lords  consume,  as  riglitful  spoil, 
The  fruitage  of  their  painful  toil; 
And  now,  exulting  witli  the  joy 
Of  hearts  that  nothing  can  annoy, — 
Like  leaping  waters — Laverock  shouting  high. 
With  rapture  of  a  sun-bright  destiny  ; 
The  Oracle  and  Advocate 


28 


9f 


% 


'^■''«  creatures  0,7    :r"r''«''''' ■'•''-'•J 
A"dino,.seanHf^        '""'*' "^'-'i 

'::'-ft,.e.„::'  '::;-' • 

"'-pie,.c,„j;;;-/""''''"'--'..i(i<.w,.,.. 

'^lans  indignati,  '     xr"-''""  •■' 
T'-at  purest  H.naltl'i;;''';'''''''''^"'-^ 

.■et„:i:r  ""'"■^■"■-^-■".giu-an 

A«owerft    V '"'""''"  '''-- 
WliPn  \fo  '"I'ltoiiie  : 

^^"-  Hope  is  spH  Si    r;r--^^  "-"■  -t-ns, 
spray,    "   ^  '"""  "=>«''  ^Pire  and 

^i-w7nrt:r^'"'^'''"->.ray. 


hlr 


'"'s  tile  Kc 


*=>B 


iUiSiB 


(Shs 


«ir 


V:BB. 


29 


VVIii'ii  rrnnies  roniul  tin 


Willi  (ilden 


till 


l\<  Iiillf;  tiif 


Anil  give  themselves  to  niiitl 


tai Is  lusj.ir* 


As  ill  t 


liatfilii 


1  and  rli\  nif. 


vinj;  ililcr  ti 


They  <:an  but  turn,  a l  f.eliii 


f,'  s  si'iiiij^tiiif  tided. 


TiithcH,  irrcatSdui:    Hard  of  true  Hrotlierin 
Wlidcvi'r  liiidi-tli  i\:vi-  rrccivfs 
Tlie  best  tliat  fjenial  Nature  gives: 
Tlioii  liringe.st  rain  and  evening  dew, 

Till!  ciliir  of  tin'  liawtliorn  (lower, 
'I'lie  screaming  of  tlie  wild  curlew, 
The  songster  of  tlie  ii. state  bower- 
Love's  eloi|nent,  persuasive  power. 
Tlioii  givest  wliat  is  artless,  native,  true: 

Tlus  things  most  rare  in  poesy. 
Most  rich  in  life,— .ill,  all  are  met  in  thee  : 

Ko!  Love's  first  Oracle  art  tlioii  : 
Could   Lesbian  Sappho  s  eyes  have  looked  be- 
yond 
llerage  to  thine,  she  would  have  owned  thy 
plough, 
And  been  of  tliee,  and  not  of  Phaon,  fond: 
Anacreoii,  from  his  laiireat  brow. 
Had  laid  his  tribute  at  thy  feet,— 
His  s')ng  less  varied  and  less  sweet. 
That   thrilling   pipe  which  woke  the  Deliihian 
vale. 

When  found  by  thee,  and  blown-«o»  know- 
est  how — 
ho  wondrously,  so  cliarniingly, 
!n  Coila's  ear,  on  Caledonian  lea 


30 


m 


!|p  ?iir£a  m  iiljp  ^msz. 


To  n,e:t.,„r  bosoms  it  can  nevr  fail 

l"'rt!o„  ami  Xat.n,,  art  at  ,„„..' 
A"J  thon  t,,y  Co,.nt.y's  w..l|.l,,i„v,.,i   s.,„ 

sami  voices. 
Thy  to,nb  l,atl,  „„„.  l„.,,o„,..  a  sl,.i„. 
To  wlMch  all  pilgHm-feet  incline, 
lit'cansetl.y  siren-songs  ,o,ortl,,' 
ToK,v.,encl,anln>ent.otl,eeartl, 
WhereVrhills  rise,  or  rivers  r„n, 
"'^"'"'"^"-^■'''eiin.nK.'rintl.esnn 
^"  for  thy  sake  we  love  to  stray      ' 

%l'owlet-l,auntedAllo«av 
Ateve,orAfto„intl,es„ltry„o„n, 
"y  Lngar.  or  l.y  Iiall„cl,„,y,e,  delay 

""r„r,^*"''V'^'^y«'""r''earttolay 
And  pluck  the  wilding  Rose  of  Doon 

'''"'ri^'°"^'"'^^^''"^''^-too„r 

The  Angel  pale,  witl,  drooninp  Snr- 

s^rtait^"^^""-"'"-"--":^ 

Of  mortal  ^woe,  canst  grieve, it.,  those  who 

Ours  is  the  soothing  strain  when  thou  dost 
mourn  ^"'si, 

Thine  eiegmc  lay  doth  thee  endear, 


tSm 


}{  Mb  €mBB.      31 


'J  he  siii.tliiii};  iir.te  is  pcK  d  t(i  licar. 
.Softly  tlioii  ticadit  vilicie  aiiyels  lull 
i.Mir  saiiiti'ii  and  oiir  Im  aiitifiil  ; 
Tlwm  kf ep'st,  "mid  Aiitimiirs  fadinp  bloom, 
Thine  anniversarv  of  tlic  toiiil)  : 
When'  Niths  iiieiiiorial  waters  tlow 
Thou  liast  thy  vigil,  lone  and  low, 
Till  MioininK  dew  lias  fallen  on  thy  brow. 
And  wakens  in  thy  lieait  the  lovers  lioly  vow: 

Thy  .^oiil  takes  tribute  of  a  star, 
Or  pitying  Marys  smile  l)eanis  (.n  tliee  from 
afar. 

Kise  1  beatiteoiis  Orb  of  .Song!  Assoiling  space 
All,  save  thy  lustre,  shall  efface,— 
That  spotless  garment,  ever  worn 
When  thou  woild'st  greet  the  early  morn: 
Let  golden  be  tliat  disc,  once  gray  ; 
Let  sp'it  and  shadow  pass  away. 
Unveil  the  brightness  of  tliy  face. 
O  Soul  :  arisen  to  Music's  prime. 
Where  thy  illustrlfius  brothers  climb, — 
Thougli  few  may  ever  reacli  that  glorious  place. 
Still  sing,  and  sing,  and  sing,  and  ever  sing: 
Warble  in  tliine  eternal  Spring, 
Where  woe  and  wrong,  tliou  kuew'st  of  yore. 
May  never,  never  reach  tliee  more: 
Sing!  and  Song's  t^hanipion  ever  be. 
To  guard  the  gates  of  liberty  ; 
Nor  ever  lose  tliinc  earnest  sense, 
E'en  in  the  lialls  of  Dalliance  ;— 


32      ilffi?  51 


km  m  i%  'Sroaa. 


M..V..  with  tl,e  swiftiM-ss  „f  tl,e  r.,- 
Or  Alpi,,,.  tnrr.Mits  in  tl,,.ir  flow' 
K-.r  tlie«  til..   I)fstiiii,..s,l,.,r.-,.,1 
".e„a!,„.,f.str,.„«tl,an.i....,„i„,.va,Mis,,...,l: 
^h<>»t'.  ye«i„g',U,,irit„f   tl„.c|n,Hl' 
llM.mler:  tl„„.  f„a,„y  ,n,„„„ai„  fail  ■ 

"ere  nngs a  v„k.e, „.„,,„.,,, ^,,  ,,;,, 

•Ami  her.'  is  laiitiir.'  nior..  tlia.i  ali  ■ 

«™THKim.LSWHKHKS,.,ci:>s,;K,m 

My  l'atl„.rsn,a.,Iy  v.,ic,.„„,iirgs 
■inil  ivitli  l,i,„  my  sainted  Mother  sings  - 

/■/,'/.  ///v  (t  ii"„lhn:lli„rl  ,„-n„ 

Kemoteandhifih.  the  air  is  still 

And  the  sun  is  sinking  behind  the  hill  • 

The  l.asm*  lies  .nits  white  re„„se  .- 
Th..„away  on  the  wings  of  Son;:  we  go 
OrrrU,,   l,ill.,,i„,.   ..^„v,,,^ ,,,„,/   ' 
Tiiey  dwell  on  many  a  sacred  lay, 
The  Ages  will  not  wear  away  • 

ii/f";'' ''",■■/''''"■'""'"  «al'«  the  spell. 
Or      0,;„n'.."  billowy  accents  swell- 
Hut  one  gives  Song  unhindered  How      ' 

Humming  the  sweet  familiar  air 
My  Fatlier  sits  in  his  rocking-  ch'air 

■'"""■Mimis.  Ki„s;'s  County,  .\..s 


aiE|i?  iStrJiia  (if  Klip?  Croiaa.      33 


When  tlie  meal  is  over  tliat  closes  tlie  day, 
Wliile  tlif  dislies  are  washed  am!  put  away, 
Till  my  Motlifir  ciimes,  and  Joy's   bogles 

blow, 
^'Ort-r  tltr  IiHIh  tvhrrc  nftiiTs  r/rtury 
()  ye,  whose  hearts  are  needing  cheer, 
The  gracious  invitation  hear  ! 
'•  I'oiiir,  nil/  III  hiritl,  liastr  (iwdi/, 
Cut  xhort  thr  linurn  ufflni  dilnii  ; 
Fill  lihr  a  jinxilhl'iil  hart  ur  rue, 
Ovrrth)  liilln  ir/n  rr  s/iicin  i/niir." 
The  years  will  bring,  as  they  have  broiiglit. 
Sorrow  and  care  and  anxious  thought  ; 
The  dusty  clods  our  hearts  o'erlay  ; 
But  we  will  brush  them  all  away, 
Fleeting  like  '\yiiiilh/iil  hart  iir  ror 
< '   I'r  the  /rills  ir/irrr  .i/iicrs  f/rdtr." 
O  Songs,  by  God  and  Angels  given  ! 
O  Songs,  that  lift  our  hearts  to  Heaven  1 
()  Songs,  that  open  from  past  years. 
The  founts  of  memory  and  of  tears  I 
Your  moving  sway,  or  swift  or  slow. 
Is  •'  Orrr  the  hills  where  apioen  (/row.'" 
O  rapt  ones,  in  the  sunset  glow  ! 
Your  voices  blend  no  more  below  ; 
But,  Memnon-like,  in  Memory's  dawn. 
The  happy  strain  goes  sounding  on  ; 
And  your  glad  steps  now  bounding  go, 
"  Over  thr  hills  trhcre  spices  (/row.'" 


'■    ^^1 


Li 


% 


^t'^. 


i^' 


38 


'^k^ '^-iKhB  mt  Ulje  qinBB. 


W'..yl.aste„till|,.hK,,„„^,,.,"- 

Ami  I  am  gla,|  to  have  its,', 
"Ioarem,u,„^„.,^,.„,,^ 

"-rect.ng.stiilaclanntl.s,  f.,n,  ' 

"«sanK.wl.e„wl,it.U,eseaswi    if 

A'.<lHecana„.s«,.,f.„,ji^^,,_';^,' 

O  Manner!  Deaths  form  dot,,  Jren 
"-t-^-n  yeandtl.e  land  j.e  love  ' 

And  dark  and  lonely  lies  the  d,...n. 
iet>^nghe:>>Leethehil,ows,.:;w'- 

Thurroa,,„gg„„s  before  me  flee- 
i'y  Kather  wills  to  have  it  .o 
A"<i^/<a^  shall  be  enoue,,f„;„„„ 

MIGKATION. 

llcguicUs  m^„,ultl,c-bir.l 
MALI,  J  not  find  the  way'  shall  r  .    .  . 

^  '"'"do^.'^^^--.  whiij^r^ti 

"'"en  that  must  come  to  me  that  oomes  to 


Shall 


not  T 


'•"'e-s  ancient  mystery  be  clear 


Wb,$  SiriSiB  (if  Ufi^  (Zxam.      39 

TJielSwall,.w  kii„ws,  l.,.f„r,.  tl...  failit.g  year 
To  lift  li,.r  winBagainst  th.-  sliadowy  Nortli  • 
Tl...  wil.l  Swan  knows  his  time,  and  sallies 

fi>rtli. 
H«f..re  the  snows  and  sleety  hlasts  appear; 

The  halm  ,n  hears  its  voice  in  the  l.,ne  pool 
Among  the  hills,  and  pant,  for  the  deep  Sea  ■ 
Shall  I  notlK-arHisvoicewhoeallsforme'^ 

The  n.eane,  creatnreserr  not:  Thou  shaltschool 
My  heart  ami  train  my  spirit  ;  Thou  shalt 
lead 

My  Soul  from  Deathsdeep  shadow,  at  her 
need. 

USTKN,   O  LAND  ! 
/r^  ISTEN,  ( )  Land  ! 
l_i.,„''""  "line  augury  of  fame: 
What  august  Kye  hath  scanned 
Thy  broad  States,  nobly  planned ! 
What  lips  have  spoken  thy  naine,— 
CANADA! 
Wake,  and  arise! 

Thou  Shalt  be  great  and  free: 
Behold  !  the  shadows  appear 
Of  a  race  in  high  career 
To  an  unwrought  destiny,— 

CANADA! 
Listen,  O  Shores! 

O  Mountain,  and  Plain,  and  Sea! 
Ye  peoples  who  her«  abide. 


> 


36      ailiip  figfrta  m  a'li?  Croaa. 

Ve  bloorai,  by  my  gwden  walk,  unfolding 

ITour  bosoms,  glad  and  gay, 
ye  cannot  longer  my  heart  bJ  holding 
tori  must  be  up  and  away! 
J-'»r//„  S,a  !  „l,,ll„  S,„! 

riii   Sro,«.,,l.,,,„n,l«tn„H,.' 
Ti'  SraHh,  Sia.'tl,.  S,  „ ! 
It  riilh  nir  ,,//  ,l„;f  I,,,,,,, 

Then  con>e,  my  friend,  n.y  conuade  df.r- 
est, 
Whose  mirth  is  mixed  with  mine 
Who  when  I  grieve  art  ever  nearest, 

With  smdes  and  tears  of  thine- 
And  come,  m,  own,  my  gentle  lover 

r  or  dalliance  ne'er  delay  ■ 
The  hour  of  kisses  and  dreams  is  over 
And  I  must  be  up  and  away! 
for  (he  Sra  .'  cfc. 

*■"  'p'l^t"'**"'''  ^"^'^   ""  ""y  ^''«*"''" 

TheTe".""  T^'"^  "  *"  ^"""""  ""d  Song, 
There  sag  onous  theme,  did  ye  but  koowU, 
Where    he  whitening  billows  throng.   ' 
Tho  purple  the  hills  in  the  haze  of  even 
And  sweet  the  vale  with  flowers,         ' 
Tho    my  garden  be  bright  with  the  dews 
of  heaven. 
Through  all  night's  starriest  hours ;- 
yet,  the  Sea!  etc. 


[f*  lUkhB  ®f  (i^t  Crmaa.      37 


IIHKillT   WKKK  TIIK  ll()|R«i. 

SKUillT  were  the   li,.iir.s,  and  our  hearts 
were  glad  and  gay, 
Kair  are  tli«  scenes,  and  tliey  beckon  lis 
away  ; 
lientle  and  kind  are  the  happy  hearts  we  kn.>w; 
Then  hack  again,  when  .Snninier  conies,  ()  let 
ns  go  ! 
CiioKrs  : 

Were  coming  !   we're  coming,  wliere  the 
waves  of  Ocean  How  ! 
Toold  Mavooshen's  haunted  sliores  again  we'll 

go- 
Free  as  the  winds,  and  as  the  waters  free. 
Free  as  the  birds,  for  a  little  while  well  be; 
Ply  ball  and  bat,  bid  the  little  boatie  row. 
Or  spread  at  eve  the  sliining  sail  as  white 
as  snow. 
Chorus: 

We're  coming,  etc. 
Then  will  we  go,  to  remember  we  were  blest, 
One  to  the  East,  and  another  to  the  West; 
But  there  shall  be  a  light  Care  s  cloud  amid,— 
A  shining  lure  to  lead  us  back  to  Pemaquid. 
Chorus: 
We're  coming,  etc. 

FAITH'S    VOYAGER. 

<  (%.  ^^^^  no'  'low  the  wind  may  blow  '  " 
X,_,  **"  s*"K  Faith's  Voyager,  one  day  • 
Twas  in  the  Summer's  golden  glow 


34     aif|ip  Strtjj  (gf  ^ij^  g 


And,  by  and  by,  in  so  ,„e  glad  year 
When  our  last  sunset  falleth  clear 
And  we  our  fair  l.ome-waters  see 
transfigured  rare  and  goldenly 
Otiien  will  we  together  go 

PRESUMPTION 

©''^'^S7^-''"'^"''>'"l-'-d„ead. 

^        It  recks  not,  forward  moving  :  Huddenlv 

Down-darts  the  livid,  all-ccnsun^ingre'^' 

*rom  ,ts  undreaded  ambush  i„  the  st;. 

WHEN    IN  THK  MAPLE  TBEEs 

TT(s\HEN  in  the  maple  trees 
VA/„.  Robins  shall  sing, 

When  in  the  scented  breeze 
Hammocks  shall  swing  .- 
When  fields  are  daisy.fair 

Sweet  birds  chant  everywhere, 

«>ing  we  some  tender  air- 
Touch  the  light  string. 

Ours  the  siesta,  then, 
'Mid  the  hushed  noon  • 

Wanderings  by  grove  or  glen, 
At  morning  boon  : 

Ah,  then  the  long  delights, 

1.^;°  •*'««"»? 'lays  and  nights, 
With  laughing,  fairy.flights, 
Under  the  moon  ! 


^f 


[fip  ©waa,      35 


Silently,  tenderly, 

Twilight  draws  near; 
Lo  :  in  the  sunset  sky 

Swims  her  star  clear  : 
Hark  :  thro'  the  open  door, 
Mnsic's  nielodioHs  score 
Floats  downward  to  the  shore. 
Charming  the  ear  ! 

Now  let  the  banjo  hum, 

Neath  the  stars'  sheen  ; 
Liglit-footed  maidens  come, 

Tripping  the  green  ; 
So,  gently  gliding  by, 
Dream-wing'd,  the  hours  shall  Ijy, 
Till  all  the  morning  sky 

<iolden  is  seen. 

"'COURA(JE'!  HE  SAID.  " 

^"^   "cheeT    '^•""■"S"  ^""■'^'   "'«  note  of 
Clear  let  the  signal  ring  from  slope  to 
slope, 

Till  all  the  vales  and  mountain-tops  shall 
hear. 
And  answer  to  the  bugle-call  of  Hope. 
THE  CALL  OF  THE  SEA. 

fr\  TREES  !  your  breezy  tops  uplifting, 
^        O  brooklet,  that  laughest by' 

O  rosy  clouds,  that  at  dawn  are  drifting 
Across  a  perfect  sky ! 


Ci>-u.i; 


A-,. 


■o.-v.    

}-■.-,.    ,  Wliat  marvels  are  prophesied, 

VVliat  hopes  are  cherished  of  thee.— 

CANADA! 
Listen,  O  Land! 

Hise,  and  the  word  fulfil  ; 

Let  Destiny  strike  the  honr 

When  thy  life-tree  shall  break  in  flower, 
At  the  height  uf  thy  noblest  will,- 

CANADA   ! 

(iKORGE  MAKTIN. 

JLADNESS  was  thine!     Of  all  the  Sons  of 
»T  Song 

Tho„    "";  r"  '""'"*  ""^  '^'""'  "'"'•'^i"  voice ; 
Then  couWst rejoice  with  him  who  did  rejoice 

On  t1,    .  M     f '  ""•"^'^  '*"•  T"  «<=«"  "-  page 
On  wh,ch  thy  lines  irregular  were  traced. 

Friendship  s  rare  wine.     The  rliyn.e,  the  prov- 
erb  sage. 

The  mirthful  sally, -each  bespoke  to  me, 
Beyond  all  change,  all  doom  or  destiny 
A  genero,,.,  nature,  manly  and  robust.  ' 
Would  I  again  might  see  thee  as  of  old  ' 
A  I.,  would  th-  long,  lonely  silence  thoncouldst 

break ! 
Bui  that  benignant  hand  which  once  would  take 
The  pe„,  beneath  Mount  Royal's  leafy  gold 
Is  lying  pulseless  in  tlie  silent  dust 


Slje  Uvchz 


^yiiroaa. 


41 


ACADIE. 

I,*:'',  ,' to'l"'sescenes:   pair 
I  find  I  am  a  stranger  there 

O  thou  hehivedAcadie  ' 

How,  whensoeerlthinkofthee, 

D..11  grow  these  .kies  "neath  which  I  range, 

And  all  the  summer  hills  are  strange 

Yet  sometimes]  discern  thy  gleam 
In  sparkles  of  the  chiming  stream; 
And  sometin.es  speaks  thy  haunting  lore 
The  foam-wreathed  Sibyl  of  the  shore 

And  sometimes  will  mine  eyes  incline 

To  h.ll  or  wood  that  seems  like  thine; 
Or   If  the  rob.n  pjpeth  clear, 
It  IS  thy  vernal  note  I  iiear. 

And  oft  my  heart  will  leap  a-fiame, 

To  deem  I  hear  thee  call  my  name, 

Ind  find  tl/''- '  ^;"'  S'"''"^^^  ^'"ne. 
And  find  the  joy  that  once  was  mine. 

NOVEMBER   WIND. 

I  HEAR  the  dole  of  the  wailing  blast, 
I  Jire  November's  past; 

And  I  see  the  waves  of  a  darkening  sea 
Move  restleasiy.  * 


42     ®>  'iiiKim  m  ®lfe  ^trnz. 


11  :    I 


Tlie  sense  ..f  woe  d,,  they  impart 
<.'»ce  more  to  iiiv  lieart 

I  think  of  one  who  was  often  nigh, 
In  the  <lays  frone  hy 

Of  the  mtie  white  honse  on  the  slope  of  the 
At  Ijockliartville. 

Together  we  slept,  together  we  played 
'Neath  the  larches'  shade 

Together  we  fared,  fro„,  Maytime  t,",  Vnle 
At  the  village  schoo'. 

Ah,  me!  it  is  seven  and  thirty  years 
Since  that  time  ,,f  tears 

When  that  Wild  word  came,  on  a  Wind  blown 
Like  a  long-drawn ! 


While  of  change  and 


iigh  ; 
loss  and  mortal  woe 


Then 


We  wept  t<,  know 
r    flrst   sweet    habe   d 


charms 


isc'osed   lier 


In  lier  niothe 


And  the  scene  of  h 


rs  arms: 


We  ll; 


Tlie  bride  m 


er  liiisband's  nativity 


ight  see 


ve  had  onr  part  of  sorrow  and  tears - 


They  br 


That  d 
Like  frosted  lea 


And,_the  Years—tlie  Y 
w  us  down,  dear  wife,  and 


irge-like  wind! 


"ears! 
we  mind 


ves  we  wither,  to-day 
And  our  heads  grow  gray. 


®!?i?  Craaa.      43 


Our  children  are  gone,  cur  lei  ml  red  are 
Scattered  afar: 

And  MOW,  wl.ile  Nuvenibergioonisand  siglis, 

Uotli  a  form  arise; — 
A  manly  form,  with  an  air  of  grace, 

And  a  youthful  face. 
Ah,  wife  :  we  know  not  the  way  he  went. 

With  his  brief  life  spent; 
What  sudden  anguish,  what  dread  despair. 

Then  met  liini  there! 
The  seas  are  wide  and  dark  and  deep. 

Where  he  lies  asleep; 

And  the  North  wind  sings  a  shuddering  stave 
Over  his  grave. 

THE  OLD  DAYS. 
H   the  Old  Days,  the  dear  Days, 
How  shine  they  now  afar  '. 
O  who  can  tell  these  Xew  Days 
How  dear  the  Old  Days  are? 
For  there's  never  a  Song  of  the  Old  Days 

But  will  bid  the  tears  to  start  ; 
And  there's  never  a  flower  of  the  Old  Days 
But  is  treasured  in  our  heart. 

Oh,  the  Old  Days,  the  dear  Days  ! 

And  can  we  hope  to  see 
Any,  of  all  the  New  Days, 

So  fair  in  their  degree  ? 
Fair,  fair  they  were,  those  Old  Days, 

We  shall  nevermore  behold  ! 


I^llj 


VKHeav,.ns!,i„e.sclearthr„„„|,theN.w 
Days, 

Tlm„gl,  Karth  grew  green  in  tl,e  „ld. 
MUTIJKK.      -^ 

">rverv,m„,„ryisf,ir„„n„i;,,,t, 
.Al.<lMlys,„itll„„Kht,|,„luli,,r 

Teac,.,ngtl,yc.,iid,- of  an  i„s  brooding  race 
The  o  e  „,ost  given  to  „,„,.,„,  „,e,anci,o,;  - 

Tl  at  I  opeand  Conrageare  Life'scentral  sfar, 
Se  n  Love  s  sices  to  guide  t),e  wanderers  .Ty- 
Wliileoereachcloiidydonbt  oVr.o     •  '^' 

There  shoots  trin„.pLntti:i-etn:rr:,"^ 
^o  may  I  talce  into  my  fainting  ,,,«.""" ''"■ 

Peace  from  that  cordianu,sonfwi.ere  thou  art. 


R 


AWAY  AND  AWAY. 

WAY  and  away  to  tlie  greenwood- 

Away  w,th  the  .•S'valiow  and  lee  - 

Away  with  the  Hours,  to  revel    r«owers 
W>th  the  Hrook  to  weleon.e  me  "  ' 

'w,f::;h;t;^:;-----..awa.e. 


"    ?-U^Jlu<,   Sh 


<sjil4-«v*»L     C, 


■W    •    wH,  U^-/ 


M- 


•-Nfl-V^l 


«, 


Mhf  Itrfta  iQt  ^f,j  ^y^g^_      ^g 


Awav,  'mid  tne  surf  <,f 
And   tlie  jmrplf-niistod 


Ti,  tl 


«  gildfln  THiits  of  th 


siinsFt, 


vale. 


And  tl: 


IB  SMS  where  tlie  cl..iid 
way  from  fagging  and  iMim-dr 


"  cloiidland  tents 


sliips  sail. 


Pri)iii  heing  ii 


Alld 


iirriid  and  hurled, 


iiincd  and  dreary,  till  niy  I 


»ry 

Of  tliat  Sorrow  tin 


my  heart  is  a- 


y  call,  the  World 


r.et  „„.  drench  my  brain  in  the  dew-fall 
LK  mo  fire  my  heart  with  the  morn  •' 

Then  these  megrims  gray,  and  these  spec- 
ties,  away 
*-l<all  be  swept  with  a  royal  scorn  '. 

UliEKD'S   HILL. 

K""'''"  '"'Ul^it^'"^^  ^'^  '""•■«""- 

J  -Nor  ask  npon  this'  soil  what  deeds  were 
done, — 
What  majesty  the   'all-beholding  sun  ' 
Has  seen  ontflame  from  our  mortality 
TI.ey  were  plain  men,  who  were  content  to  die 


<»ray  are  these  sombre  sto 


nes;  the  bare  bill  lie 


46      Wqf 


(if  Sbr  €ro00. 


Only  a  common  scene  to  comnion  eyes. 

And  no  one  turns,  wliilc  stil!  the  tlironp  j;oes 

I'y. 

They  liear  no  sound  of  tumult  as  tliey  po  ; 
Tliey  know  not  the  tierce  joy,  tlie  hijjh  career 
Of  those  wlio  triumphed  on  tliat^Ooriftus  morn: 
Tlieir  thouglits  wliirl  not  with   the  vast  tides 

that  do  w 
Tlirougli  struggling  souls,— tlie   rapture,  liope 

and   fear, 
The  agony,  where  nations  are  new-born. 

SlIOKEts  OF    MAVOOSHEN. 

In  the  SumiiiLT  ol"  1903  ji  tnmpai.y  of  Suiiiiiier  visum  .- 
wcre^;a}ici(.-(i  to^i^^thcr  ;it  IVinutiuid,  who  t'<irniid  \vh;U  was 
known  as  the  "Per'aqiiid  Club,"  with  a  rnmplftt  nuiht  .f 
Constitution  and  IJyclaws.  Initiation  I'cvs,  due-*,  and  all 
that  ijc>es  to  a  propcrly-cmistituted  soi  iftv,  evi-n  to  a  pot-t 
and  in  part  an  nriiiinal  .S^n^■.l)n^Ii.  to  which  the  prt-stnt 
writtT  was  a  principal  contributor.  It  was  |)ro]-<>std  that 
a  continuous  membership  should  be  lieid,  and  that  llie 
company  should  meet  from  j^cason  to  season  in  the  same 
plate.  -Like  many  another  fair  project,  however,  it  came 
to  nauRht,  and  the  members  were  presently  scattered  far 
and  wide.  Tlie  lollowinj;  is  the  first  nf  ihe  Snnys,  written 
to  popular  airs,  which  lornied  a  feature  of  thnt  merry  and 
convivial  Summrr,  and  were  sun^  amid  the  ^^reen  woods 
and  alonjj  the  rocky  shores  of  that  most  romantic  jfortion 
of  Lincoln  County.  Scattered  throujjhout  this  vohir.ie  are 
several  Ivrics  that  fornu  d  a  part  cf  that  collection.  \Iav- 
ooshen  is  another  Indian  name  of  the  district  called  I'ema- 
(luid. 

'JI^O  the  joys  of  old  Mavooshen 
^)     When  suns  of  Summer  shine. 
With  the  lullaby  of  waters, 


©i/i?  UlxhB  ©f  Uljs  (Sraaa.      47 


And  whispers  of  the  pine; 
With  whispciiiiu  "f  the  jiiiie 

Where  tile  wave  (if  Ocean  rears! — 
Oh  I  tlie  fair  fielils  nf  Mavudslien, 
Anil  the  bunny  winding  shtiresi 
To  the  homes  of  old  Mavooshen 

With  friends  that  there  we  knew. 
The  souls  care-free  and  joyous, 
The  warm  hearts  and  the  true;— 
Ay,  the  warm  hearts  and  the  true, 
And  each  laughter-loving  eye, 
Where  the  Summer  winds  blow  softly. 
And  the  waves  make  soft  reply. 
On  the  green  hills  of  Mavooslien 

How  sweet  to  sit  and  dream 
Of  many  an  olden  legend 

Beside  thy  sheltered  stream!— 
Thy  gurgling,  glimmering  stream; 
Or,  whore  the  surf  leaps  high, 
Watch  the  wliite-wingd  ships,  at  even- 
ing. 
Go  softly  sailing  by. 

O  ye  green  hills  of  .Mavooshen! 
Ye  lovely  Summer  dream, 
Where  sang,  'neath  plashing  oak-leaves. 
The  .Spirit  of  theStreani;— 
Of  the  merry  winding  stream. 
And  the  echo-haunted  shore! 
Oh,  ye  rocks  of  old  .Mavooshen, 
With  the  billow  bursting  hoar! 


48      €l!fj 


3! 

i: 


Jf  m^s  dmBa. 


I'OK. 


TlfsyK^f  si'all  wese«tliee,f:,ar.,f  f,,,,  ,,,,1 
\^y  niist 

Tl.atenvi,„is  souls  so  1,.„«  have  r.nnni 
tliee  tliiowii  '.' 
Wlien  Christ  shall  say  t.,  .-ach  vain  nwralist  - 
/.'/  /-//«   who    h„lh    „„  ..in  raxt  thr  J!r>,t 

.JACK  DANDKLION. 

WHIITKN  IN   A  CHll.l.-s  AI.HI.M. 

BOLD  JACK  1JANI,KLIU.V,-Iine  little  fel- 
low  1 
Arose  at  dawn  in  his  bright  vest  of  yellow 
He  went  early  to  bed,  ami  was  earlv  to  waken- 
Yet  scarcely  had  he  his  dewy  bath  taken 
And  scarcely  had  he  his  early  prayer  said 
When  a  rattling  lawn-n.owerswiped  olV  his  head 
Oh,  ho:  what  a  fate  for  a  heart  so  mellow 
As  young  Jack  Dandelion, -poor  little  fellow  : 
But  Jack  belongs  to  a  dauntless  race 
So  he  came  right  up  in  the  self-same'piace 
And  stood  there  straight  with  the  stuffiest' 
With  a  pleasant  sn.ile,  in  his  yellow  vest: 
H    couldn't  be  daunted.—no,  not  he! 
A..^  he  took  everythin  j;  so  joyously, 
With  as  cheery  a  face,  and  a  smile  as  mellow  - 
Just  like  Jack  Dande'.ion,-brave  little  fellow  ■ 


'  ©V  €nii0a.     49 


■i" 


^ 


TlIK  \HT  OK  TKNNVSON. 


Ilisl  'l  '  V'"""""  '^ ''is  praise. 

II  s   s  the  splendor  of  a  siiiis,.!  sea- 
His  is  the  odorous  ,,o,„,,  of  Summer  days 
And  mingled  glories,  all  of  liigh  degree'. 

MARCH,  I\  THE  SOUTH. 
KBOM  TIIK  KKKNCll   OK  OAITIKH. 
KT,  where  changeful  Man  is  found 
Nature  walks  her  ancient  round' 
March,  who  laughs  at  all  our  cares, 
Secretly  the  Spring  prepares. 
Siyly,  Pre  the  daisies  peep. 
Waking  from  their  winter  sleep. 
Comes  the  Koruier  of  the  buds, ' 
Chiseling  their  golden  studs. 
Cunning  dresser  !  on  he  goes. 
Under  vineyard,  orchard-close; 
With  his  swans-puff  snowily 
Powders  every  almond  tree. 
-Vature  in  her  bed  reposes. 
Wliile  he  goes  among  her  roses, 
Lacing  all  their  new  buds  in 
Corsages  of  velvet  green. 

While  he  solfeggios  sings 

To  the  blackbirds,— lo!  he  flings 

Snowdrops  to  thegreening meadows 
Violets  to  the  purpling  shadows. 

By  the  side  of  cressy  brook. 

Where  the  stag  witli  startled  look 


VM 


50      ell*  MuhB  ®f  M($  (itmB. 


Ceasus  drinklni;,  I 


f  COIIIpt'ls 


hcetitfil  lilit-s'  silvir  l)fll.« 
Kudu  witluiiit,  liiitdfft  williiii, 
He  liath  arts  our  love  tn  win; 
Winterii  liaiid  he  Kf  ntlj  lii.sfs, 
Jociiiid  guests  lie  iiitriidiices. 
Soon— his  secret  work  ci<ni|.lete— 
April  s  eoniiiij;  ilotli  lie  greet  : 
"Dearest  Month:"  he  sniilinK  says, 
"ItriiiginSii'ing  s.ieliKhtfi  I  days;  • 

A  CONVIVIAL  KI'ISTI.K. 

WRITTKN   IN    IMK   D.IKK    MANNKU,    AMI  IIKAHAT 
A   KKI  NION  OK  KKIKNDS,   AT  OKIiINO  ION. 

^KAK  Kriens,  once  more  with  homely  lavs 
I  greet  you,  as  in  other  days. 
When  I,  too,  trode  the  Hweet  byways 

Of  <)rrinj;ton. 
And  in  tli-  thrifty  Karnier  s  praise 

My  rhynie-webs  spun. 
And  ken  ye  not  thatauld  braw  time,— 
When  Cncle  (Jretiory  rade  sublime 
His  iiiirth-iiiad  hobliy,  in  his  prime, 
.  Wi'  witchir.gart,— 

I  gie  d  ye  sic  a  screed  o'  rhyme, 

Kresli  f  rae  my  heart  ? 
An' there  we  sat,  rejoic'd  to  see 
Our  Robie*  share  the  social  glee, 
As  wit  and  song  and  poesy 

Were  poiir"d  at  call, 

ion  iilluiledto. 


m 


•  Kx  (iovi-rnc.r  Kobii-.  iiresfntoii  the 


111  'All 


ii!|f  'MrhB  ©f  '(£^e  €mm.      ^\ 


i 


Ti«  ilt-aicate  with  brave  «„/,>, 

V<iiiriiPw(iraiiKPlIall 
Vour  Hard,  since  tliat  aiispioidus  day 
Has  (laundered  far  upon  Ills  way  ; 
Yet  memory  „•  tliat  joyons  May 

Ddtli  backward  bring 
"A  tciiich  of  blitlie  vitality 

Ifpon  its  wing." 
Where  noware  thaeauld  friens  we  ItneW 
'J'.ne,  -Uncle  Kd,  '-'Aunt  lizzie,'  too; 
And  mony,  vanish  d  frae  our  view 

Sliall  come  nae  maif 
Wha  ance  we  held  baitli  leal  and  true, 

Our  mirth  wad  share. 
Dear  grows  the  past  as  time  ou trolls, 
To  all  our  retrospective  souls  ; 
Our  sunsets  glow  like  living  coals, 
Low  i'  the  West  ; 
And  with  the  rainbow's  stripe  our  goals 

Of  storm  are  drest. 
Ah,  what  a  world  we  lived  in,  then  ! 
In  ink  of  gold  Love  dipped  his  pen 
To  write  a  fiery  lyric,  when 

Life's  sun  was  high! 
Hope's  echoes,  upon  liill  and  glen, 
Could  never  die. 
Then  Love  and  Youth  breathed  their  di- 
vine 
Music  thro'  waterfall  and  pine. 


52      ®ln?  MuM  mt  ®l}ip  (STraaa. 


Tliio'  rustling  corn, 


tliro'  flelds  a-shi 


While  Fancy  «„wel^;!i3^\^,„ 

Kacli  day  for  us. 
The  Springtime  made  the  world  anew 
The  sky  had  sic  a  matchless  bine'        ' 
The  rose  had  sic  a  glorions  luie  ! 
,„.,  The  lilies  sprung, 

W.     sic  a  heavenly  grace,  to  view. 

When  we  were  young! 
And  when  the  fields  were  daisy-white 
And  meadows  knew  the  dear  delight  ' 
Of  Bob-o'-Lincoln's  laughing  flight, 

Ourchildho(dhad, 
With  wh.p-poor-wills  thro'  the  brief  night 

Cause  to  be  glad. 
When  .welling  ships  in  full-saiPd  pride 
hailed  up  upon  the  opening  tide 
Sweet,  on  yon  cliffy  river-side, ' 

T„  K        .u  *^"*  ''*'■  B''^^"  bower 

To  bear  that  modest  vernal  bride, 

Th'  arbutus  flower  ! 

But  shall  our  puling  rhymes  deplore, 

That  some  of  us,  at  near  th  lee-jcti, 

Are  laughing  girls  and  boys  no  more,  ' 

„     .        .  ^''  youth  a'  spent: 

Or  ring  the  changes,  o  er  and  o'er, 

Of  discontent  ? 
Nay  I  we'll  do  nae  sic  thing,  forsooth! 
—Sit,  wi'  Achilles  in  his  booth. 


mm  1 


M  S«y  ®wa0.     53 


Ami  grumble,  like  agr,.mbIingt,K.tl,, 
In  fitful  rage" 

Nay,  Letter  tlian  a  verdant  y„„tl. 

A  green  an  Id  age 

u.  oak,,' L.fe  is  stout  and  Strang 
ll.s  green  leaves  yet  ahn„thin,|,arg, 
„,  ,  "'"  sap  nioiints  clear- 

We  may  be  g.ide  to  delve  and  dang, 

Vet  mony  a  year. 
When  y„„ng  and  anld  are  met  ti.egother 
^-.dg.    yecheerieheartan-weatlfer- 
Keep  bats  and  feather.,  in  fine  feather, 

wr  u  While  y' shake  thwa' 

W.  speech  ansang,  bustle  :.n' blather, 

'Round  your  Grange  Ha'' 

K.pe  s^tj^awberries,-the  girls  will  hull 

An  bring  fresh  cream,  to  mix  and  mull 

CoiSfee  an-  steaming  tea,_I  smell  'em  .'_ 
,,  ,  *^""s.  piping  liot ! 

l^ome,  frae  your  cavern  of  Adullam, 
Wi'  that  bean-pot  ' 
But  bring  you  forth  a  smiling  face 
The  round  of  social  chat  to  grace  •' 
Of  maugre  looks  be  there  nae  trace 

TK    „  Till  a' b«  done: 

lie  Farmers  are  a  cannie  race. 

But  must  hae  fun. 


M 


54 


Ifip  ItrBa  (if  ©Ifip  ®rnaa. 


I 


An'  guid  friens,  let  me  whusper  lap  le 
How  verra  gladly  Id  be  wT  ye  :_ 
O  jolly  doiigli-nuts— jiiist  topree  ye  ! 

— It  niaytia  he  ! 
But,  giiid  folk,  tiK,'  I  canna  see  ye, 

Hae  tlioclit  fur  nie, 
Juist  now  the  supper-bell  they  lanp  • 
Syne,  ere  ye  gae  yer  ways  alaiig, 
Ye'll  ablins  sing  a  little  sang,—' 

I've  heard  that  same  : 
Then,  like  guid  childer,  ye  may  gang 
Stranght  awa'  hanie. 
BIRCHES. 
I   WALKED  a  winding  road  to-day, 
I         Bordered  with  silver  birches  • 
I  o  bear  sweet  odor  far  away 

The  wind  their  covert  searches- 
O   Ladies  of  the  wildwood  shade  ! 

Your  human  sisters,  dressing 
In  perfumed  robes,  have  often  made 
Such  soft  and  sweet  impression. 

THE  DESTINED  HOUR 

WBITTEN   WHEN  ILL  ANI.  ABSRNT  FROM   HOME. 

DAY  !  that  must  so  surely  conie,- 

Wh«n°"  ^"Ti"^'  "■■""  ™yst«rious,Day ' 
When  sound  of  Earth  shall  cease.Earth's 
...  lips  be  dumb. 

And  when  my  Soul  must  rise  and  haste  away. 
From  journeying  over  land  and  sea, 
My  heart  returneth  home  again  ; 


M  ©Ifp  (Btmis.     55 


^  '"'■Ker,  stranger  pathway  waits  for  .„,. 
Abourneternal-beitblissorpa^!,  ""' 

«» 'Jay:  <i..d.Md.t..fr..„,,„y  „.,„„, 

Vf..t..er^^t.,e    dari<..„„e    n.essenger   of 

T'i....  ri,.g.,t  for  n,e  an  ,.„e,p.,ted  knell. 

'""'*"e'"-'ike,  at  opening  day 

"""'«°n.est,  with  a  fairer  dawn 
o  1-rald  „,y  nndannted  S„„i  awaT 

^Vh«re,„ybel..vd,fa„.i,iar  ones  Ce  gone 
O  Day,  of  all  n.y  days  to  me! 

■Sl.ain:erT'""';"'"'"^'^""'P"'«'>-d? 
'  ^  '■;;  '="=-'  "'"-  "'"St  hath  loved  me, 

While  pra£s^n.adea„d  softening  tears  arJ 

<^>r,  cast  afar,  a  stranger  lone, 

hurviving  all  most  h.ved  and  true 

>"s   I  breathe  out  „.y  solitary  m.r 

And  nnlamented  bid  the  earth  adi^rr 

Or,  of  my  household  gronp  the  arst 
,^  ay  I  be  called  to  take  my  leave '_ 

To  bless  the  Wife,, ove,  the  babes  I  n'urs'd 
»-«."s.ng   sorrow  that   might  n.ake   the^ 
grieve  ? 

■•"'all  I  be  led  to  painless  sleep 

And  gently  pass  to  rest  supreme? 


56      Uhs 


[fi?  fflraaa. 


' 


II  i' 


!  ' 


Or  partas<)iiicklv  as  fr 


When  black    witl 


•<ini  ymi  liliu-  <l.  eji, 


';  cloud,    sli.M.ts   down    the 


I)ier<:iti!»  (jleaii 
Or.  sapped  by  i-'atl.ly-drawn  di 


M 


lal!  I,  in  hmi; 


I'ray,  with  a  feel, It-  ory  f 


'■mlnriiit:  j,Rin, 


'"'  "■"(■  s  surcease. 


And  1.,;  o  t.i  break  my  half-divided  <I 


iiain  ' 


Ah,  (i(,d  !  thi.ii  kniiw   st— TIkhi 
And  well  sueh  knowledge  <h 


Thee 
Kiirliearts  werechill 


ils  with 


If  all  they  fear  they  iiad 


as  ice,  iirharda.vstc 


the  skill  tn  Nee. 


Or,  saved  from  fears  to  !< 
Then  aimless  all  tiiv  dav> 


Listless,  my  feet  niiBht 


stream.s. 


ys  Miijiht  be  ; 
rove  by  haniitei 


Shrinking  from  conv 


erse  and  sex 


Yet< 


If  th 


inie,  O  Day  :  as  co 


niP  thou  niu.st 


en  my  .Savior  draweth  nigh 


Lay  this  poor  earth 


If  then  His  hand  si 


ly  niarrsii.n  in  the  dust 


all  lift  me  to  th 


sky. 


MARCH     .SNOW. 
MS  morn,  and  still  the  hoary  meteor', lies- 
I      All  through  the  nigbt's  deep  sileneett 


•lesceiided: 
In  it's  immaculate  beauty  n<.w  th 


e  skie 


And  the  hushed  earth  are  buried  dee,,  and 


blended 


^s  MxhB  (if  ®ij^  @T„aa.      57 


The  year  liath  not  beheld  a  w 


The  tiaky  softness  buries  all 


The! 


iritrier  scene! 
belt 


Wind 


>ary  elms  forget  their  wished-fnrgreen 
do.s  and  walls  are  battened  w.fh  the 


-V-'W  tiny  puffs  curl  from  each 


sinl 


niarhlfd  roof, 


:he  Hales  to 


And  eddying  downwar 
rest; 
The  Winter  Spirit  hovers  yet  aloof, 

To  breathe  a  benison  on  Earth's  wan  breast 

The^piled  down  on  theapple-boughs  that  lay 

hm.  by  the  breeze  in  playful  gusts  is  spun' 

R-ses  the  Wind,  and  whirls  the  drift  away 

And,  r.„gedwith^swirling  Cloud,  yon  bre'aUs 

THE  DEPARTING  TEAR 
OPECTRE!  thatstealestby 
^'vvm  "f     nn-dnight  tolleth  slow 
With  frosty,  tearless  eye. 
And  torch  inverted  low; 

Thy  step  was  once  so  light. 
Thy  face  so  smiling  bright' 
Set  free— 

Depart,  thou^haggardghost,fornonewillweep 

Spectre  !  thou  wanest  now  ! 

Thon,  too,  so  iov'd  and  fair- 
No  more.  .        We  crown  his  brow 

Who  treads  morn's  starry  stair 


Thou,— veild  thy  face 


in  woe, 


II 


1^!^- 


|:, 


58     Oiljip  Mli^B  ®f  ®fi.'i?  Ciiroaa. 


Oowii  Midiiiglit's  postern  go: 
Pass  (III, 
Like  ghost  at  crow  of  cook,  bet  >re  tlie  peep  of 
ilawii. 

Spectre  .'  tliiiie  hour  is  past, 

Thoiigii  Love  tliy  name  endears  ; 
Our  face  is  set,  at  last, 
To  light  (jf  coniinj!  years: 

Tliy  song  was  sweet,—  lis  sung; 
Tliy  lute  is  now  unstrung: 
VVIien  o'er 
Our    prime  of  powei,  tlien  we  can  court  and 
charm  no  more. 

Spectre  :  whose  liand  did  touch 

My  heart,  1  prize  tliy  lore: 
Tliy  parting  robe  I  clutch, 
I  press  thy  liand  once  more  : 
For  sorrow  if  thy  worth. 
Spirit :  I  go  not  fortli 
To  cheer 
With  those  who  welcome  in  the  roseate,  youth- 
ful year. 


LINCOLN. 

niE  PATRIOT,  patient,  pitiful,  and  pure- 
1      Martyr  to  .Justice  and  to  Liberty: 
This  is  his  gift— the  Union  stands  secure- 
This  Is  his  praise— the  niillioned Slave  is 
free 


©Iff  MwhB  ®f  ®|yp  ©rnaa.      59 

HOWB. 

';:';:;:"^:t:;;;,:;t'X:,;;:'' ,-"--^- 


-..ndsi„.V„„l,„,lu-|Io„.scolAs..,nhly,.l,c 


Stic 

.n.u„hj....',;  ;^: ;:::,-"- —"'"-u .......  ,i„„ 

Wlnle  iiow  the  pleasant  streams  of  Aca- 

Or  May.flowers^cwep  beneatli  the  budding 

While  sunset  gildrChebucto's  sumn,er  sea, 
And  bloometh  white  the  cherry's  wilding 
bough, 
While  robins  sing,_f„rg„tten  cannot  be, 

The  name  of  Joneph  Howe. 

While  ships  sail    westward    from   Britannia's 
shore. 

Bearing  the  voyager  swiftly  to  his  home- 
While  sk,ms  the  skater  the  lake's  bosonTo'er 

Orthe  brown  Micmac  loves  the  wood  to  roam 

Or  Melvlle  Isle  lifts  its  forbidding  brow- 


11 


60     ilj?  Itrda  ®f  w^t  ©Jfcaa. 


S!ii 


While  eloquent  lips  may  cliarni,— sliall  not  be 
dumb 

The  praise  c.f  .Joskpfi  IIowk. 

While  men  love  Freedom  with  a  constant  love. 
And  men  hate  Tyranny,  or  tyrants  spnin; 

While  scum  of  meanness  can  their  bosom  inove. 
While  hearts  with  fires  of  jxiesy  may  burn; 

While  the  vast  tides  keej)  ebbing  to  retnrn, 
Or  flames  the  maple  trees  resplendent  bough, 

Our  children's  children  still  shall  proudly  learn 
The  fame  of  JosKi-ii  Howe. 

O  MAIZIK  !     ' 

©MAlZlE!dear.Maizie! 
Our  eyes  are  glad  to  see. 
For  a  little  space,  your  bright,  sweet  face, 
O  soul  and  voice  of  glee  I 
i'oii  nnnr  whrn  f/ir  t/rar  ik  in,  i'.t  jn-imc, 
In  vil(i-ru>ie-aml-<laii')/-tivu . 
O  Malzie  I  dear  Maizie  1 

Afid  must  you  leave  us'so  V 
A  smile  and  a  tear,  you  gave  us,  dear, — 
Heaven  bless  you,  as  you  go  ! 
You'll  come  a;/    in  when  the  year's  in  the 

j/rinie, — 
2 ■.  wild-roK(-an(l-<luin)i-tinH'. 


SPRING'S    FREEDOM. 

Y  SOUL  is  biirne,  a  winter-beaten  boat. 
Upon  the  soft  resurgence  <if  the  Spring, 
That  lifts  the  bird  anew  on  joyful  wing, 


ct  a*<,  i.iu.  > 


M 


dJMj 


i^v^-u.  ^ 


®!|i?  Ml'chB  ®f  ilj?  ©raaa.      61 


And  sets  Kartlisjny<,iiscri'atnr»-s  all  aflnat. 
Song  stirs  witliin  nie,  as  tlj*'  gur|;llne  note 

Of  liill-sMe  riinnels  rippling  tliro'  the  fern; 

And  with  wliat  ease  tlie  rnby  liiids  return. 

Anil  pi|)ings  to  the  liyla's  liquid  throat, 
Delif;htconiestonie,  tho'nnasked  unbidden. 

Floating  on  vans  of  silken  butterfly. 

With  the  abandon  tif  tlie  bickering  bee: 
Forth  to  the  light  a  thousand  beauties  hidden 

Come  peeping  witli  sweet  sponlanletv  ; 

Spirit  and  tlesh  seem  one,— f/Hf/  t/i,)/  arr 
frr  c  .' 

TO  (iEOK<5K  MARTIN. 

WKITTKN    ON    A    I'OSIAI.  CARD. 

J3;^IIO'  such  a  check  to  a  s  :blime  invention 
^(y     Of  copious  muse  who  nu'asnres  by  the 
yard. 
Yet  do  I  prize  thy  limited  dimension. 
Thou  cream-hued  postal  card  : 
Like  thee,  I  would  be  always neatand  liandy, 

Of  all  superfluous  verbiage  debarred: 
Then,  Martin,  w hen  .\  ou  have  a  word  to  bandy, 
Send  me  a  postal  card. 

CIIAMPLAIN. 

THE  POBTBAIT  AND  THE  .STATUE. 
In  the  Chateau  dc  Raniezav,  the  former  residence  ndht 
Governors  nl  Montreal  under  the  old  re|:.nie-n.,w  the  re- 
posuo.yof  many  historical  souvenirs-is  a  portraitof  Sam 
uel  do  Champlain,  whose  nameis  so  elo.selv  identified  with 
American  discovery  ...,d  Canadian  development.  Un  the 
Duffenn  Te,  race  a.  tluebec  stan.1.-  his  statue,  one  of  the 


1%=:^. 


62      ©Ijif  MixM  Wf  a;f|if  C£ra00. 


iiti.  to  ivhirh  tlif  visitor  t.,  thnt  city  «  jll  !«■  ilirn  i 
ith  par.lnnalili-  priilr  in  ih.-  |i.issc,si„i,  ,  (  his  ilii,t  an' 
eritiinci-  dl"  his  iaiin-. 

MIOU,  CiiATKAi-  Kamkzay,  Contain, 
)     Pictured  (m  tliy  liistnrlc  wall, 
The  opt-n  features  of  Cliani plain,— 

The  man  to  whom  it  did  befall 
From  its  long  liiding  to  command 
The  wealth  of  the  Canadian  land. 
A  noble,  kindly  face  had  he. 

That  not  belied  his  heart,  I  ween  ; 
A  Captain  of  such  high  degree 

As  Honor  holds  in  )iis  demesne. 
He  was.— Behold  his  statue  stand. 
High-reared  in  the  Canadian  land  : 
His  name  enchants  thy  rock,  Quebec  ! 

His  name  Columbia's  waters  bear: 
Serene  he  stands,  who  trod  tlie  deck, 

And  pierced  the  gray  wolfs  djjsky  lair ; 
The  fort,  the  wilderness,  who  knew. 
The  caravel,  and  the  canoe. 
Now,  given  to  story  and  to  song, 

Quebec  stands  guardian  of  his  dust; 
His  lineage  did  to  France  belong; 

His  loyal  soul  is  with  the  just: 
Stern  War  was  his  inheritance: 
He  tonched  Religion  with  Romance. 
Otliers  might  hard  and  cruel  be. 

Staining  their  path  with  needless  gore; 
Magnanimous,  humane,  was  he, 


i.>  nvx^z  m  Sifip  (£xmB. 


63 


8 


And  j„st,  aii.1  wise,  and  rid.  in  lore  — 
ftmit  witi,  tlie  m.MMitains  n.ajestv       ' 
A  son  and  lover  of  tlie  st-a. 
Wl,a^  matter  tl,o„Bl.  ti.e  Ked-cross  Hag 
llati,  lo„K  replacd  the  Flenr-de-iis' 
riie  stejis  .,f  Honor  sliail  not  lag, 

•Secure  in  lasting  fame  is  he- 
His  deed  Us  lustre  still  assures' 
Long  a..  tlieContimnt  endures. 
There  by  his  nobly-Howing  Hiver 

At  (.ate  of  Commerce,  let  him  stand. 
Still  l,.„kin«  calu.ly  seaward,  ever 

Toward  his  hardy  Xorman  land- 
For  Canada  his  dust  enshrines 
And  in  lier  heart  his  honor  shines. 

TE.NNVHON. 
E.VUTV  of  <;od  in  eartli  and  sky  and  sea 
Tl...  sweetness  and  refinement  of  the  flow- 


With  elevation. 


strength,  and  majesty. 


Are  deeply  blent  in  liis  harnionious  powers. 

VIOLETS. 
T(§\IOLRTS,  purple  blue  and  white, 
\/l  e,  like  morning,  born  of  night, 
Wh.sper  of  the  .Springs  delilht! 
After  frost  and  after  snow, 
When  the  ««ft  winds  gently  blow, 
1  e,  like  sweetest  thoughts,  do  grow 


64     <3Ijf  lirJifl  Wf  ®I(P  ffiroaa. 

tjtoiiy  brixik  and  singing  stream 
Answer  to  tlie  sunny  ((Icani, 
Winter  now  i-^  but  a  dream. 
Meekly  pale,  sweet  Violets  I 
tiunsliine  warms,  and  dew  drop  wets; 
(Jod  is  near— //(■  nut  fiirj/i  In. 
After  sunshine  conies  tlie  sliBde  ; 
After  bloom  we  violets  fade  ; — 
(iod's  hand  takes  the  form  he  made. 
After  shadow  conies  the  sun  ; 
tipring,  when  wintry  sands  are  run  ; 
Only  A/'/V,   wlien  Otatli  is  done. 


Home  disci  tune. 


!!?iARENTS  I  know,  so  gentle  and  so  mild, 
^  They  can  but  spare  the  rod  and  spoil  the 


f> 


They  can  but  spar 

child  ; 

While  yet,  in  part  their  error  to  redeem, 
They  box  the  ioiitiiiiisi>,<iii<i  they  whip 

the  cream. 


O  BE  THOU  STRONG. 

BE  thuu  strong  in  an  evil  time, 
O  be  thou  strong  and  true  ; 
Fur  the  night  foreruns  the  dawning  prime, 

And  the  earth  is  born  anew  : 
Tho'  the  .Mammonite  king  be  king  to-day, 

The  meanest  that  ever  reigned  ; 
Tho'  l;be  hope  of  the  world  he  hath  taken 
away, 
Tlio'  the  heart  of  man  be  hath  pained. 


%  -MxhB  (§f  e;iff  cHroaa..      65 


<>  li-  then  .strong,  i.,  :,,,  ,.vi|  day, 
<)  III-  llii.n  lini    I,  I  ,iic  'i,r|  .'  ■ 

'••'■M.-MU'^ria,  1,,.  I,,  i,,,, .,:,„, .„„,„,. 
lli-Mlarkm—   .  ;   Kin  ■  s  I'i    I  t  ■ 

'M''-  th..  iM.Sl...    ,     ■„,.  I.,, ,11.,  ,|„   ,,.  ,  „i,„. 

Vi-ttlicii-  Mmm,.,.  ,,  ,.■,■;„,.,  >iav  . 
T!i«  Mainmu,i,u.|  ,„^,i,ai:  ,„,,,, |„a..sreig„. 
Uiit  Cliristxliail  he  K  iiii- f.,,  ayn. 

MM.MKIi  ON    TIIK    i|,N,,|i>C()T. 
«=?<>«■  is  tl,..K.,l,l..„  ,la«„i„«.,f  tl,e  yar. 
ly     Hlieii  valcan.l  wo.mI  fr.,ni  flii.tij  liiean.s 

And  tliv  all-(;la,i,l,.„i„y  s;,n  li  s  .■astern  l,ill 
Kein.Mii.ts,  ami  (loth  his  l.ea„,vc.,nrseis  drive 
O  IT  the  wide  heaven,  till  Kve  her  Ian,],  d<.th 
fill 
And  hid  her  star  shine  clear  : 
How  fair  thy  waters  seem,  ()  liiver  dear  : 
Now  hnrr,  in^  seaward  will,  thx  v.dee  „f  glee. 

Kroni  sylvan  qniet  i>laces  faraway. 
And  w.x.ds  where  bleak  Kalahdin  I'if  ts  his ,  rey 
Bulk,  hoar,  and  scarred  with  many  a  centiiiy. 

■Sickle  and  scythe  we  last  .year  laid  aside 
After  the  sheaves  were  gathered,  ■-  ait  they  still  • 

^  *t  rings  the  cheerful  anvil  the  long  d'ay 
And  leap  the  shrieking  saws  in  laisy  mill    ' 

Our  hearts  the  b.Mnn,ersj.,y..nce  now  shall 
nil. 

And  bid  us  tn  delay; 


J 


7!?^H=: 


66 


!j?  MuhB  ®f  Oiljr  €raaa. 


While  now  a  thousand  birds  exult  aloud, 

A  strain  of  high  delislit,  with  ours  that  bipiid.-, 
And,  ••from  the  bosom  of  yon  dropping  cloud," 
The  Spirit  of  the  Summertide  descends. 

Kor  now  the  dandelion's  thriftless  gold 
Is  squandered  bv  the  r.  adside;  in  the  field. 

Soon  to  be  made  with  nodding  daisies  white. 
The  pure  and  perfect  vicilet  is  revealed; 

The  wild  pear's  silken  blossoms  now  im  ite. 
When  we  their  charms  behold, 
Our  feet  to  I  read  where  bannered  woods  are 
green, 

And  starry  flowers  are  curdled  o'er  the  thorn; 

And  all  the  dancing  waters  touoh'd  with  m  )rn' 

In  their  great  glory  are  ,. '  .e-laughing  seen.     ' 

And   then  'tis  June,  with  orcliards  all  im- 
pearled, 
And  the  pranked  meadows  waving  deep  and 
warm  ; 

When  with  full  heart  doth  the  rich  Mother- 
world 
The  liberal  promise  of  the  Year  perform: 
The  thick,  dark  maples  yield  their  twilight 
gloom; 
And,  with  their  vines  close-curled 
About  them,  rise  the  green-clad  elms,   where 
bloom 

The  wild  rose  hedges,  gardens  spreading  fair, 
And  the  syringa.  sweetening  all  the  air, 
(iivesSummer,with  her  brightness  and  perfume 


®IHf  Itrta  m  ©i|r  ©rom      67 


Tlie  .Swailnw^darts  fro„,  his  eave.,.|„st,.rr<l 

And  like  a  ciroli,,^:  arrow  skims  the  lea- 
In  h,s  cen.lean  vest  the  lihiebird  sings 
And  pipes  at  n.orn  the  plaintive,  faint  I>ee.,vee 
The  Robin  maketh  ch^er  ;  the  Oriole  swings 
Mis  elm-lui„g  cradle  well  • 
Lone, •,,t,,e.,,,sk  thrashes  the  Whippoor,,  ill; 
The  holy  Hermit,  in  his  cedar-vale 
Tolls  his  soft  aerial  bell  ;  and,  'Ilail''alll,ail - 
■■^hontsthe  mad  Bobolink,  andla„ghs  his  fill.  ' 

Above  yon  bluffy  ba.ks  and  swirling  tides 
Hampden  reposes  in  its  tent  of  shade 

And  where  I'enobscofs  farthercurrent  glides 
The  sylvan  homes  of  (,rri„gton  were  made: 
Ah,  in  this  watery  vale  what  beauty  bides' 
What  bounty  is  displayed 
I"  all  these  floweri,„,ields.   these  slopes  that 

As  if  in  pride  of  his  illustrious  fame 
Hho  left  the  legacy  of  his  great  name 
To  freedoms  sons,  then  passed  into  the  ski.s 

Uiti,  lifted  pen  would  write  its  honors  here- 
ta.raro  tF.ese  homes,  bosomed  'mid  Hower- 
in;;  trees  ; 
Fair  these  green  ha_.,ksand  clustered  groves  ap. 

O,  rich  and  varied  scene,  and  apt  to  please' 
„„  ^^....•'".y."'"': '""»' ♦'J"  surveys 


Yon  stately  Hiver'—Nati 


veys 
ure's  glorious  Child! 


%p  Stsr&a  ®f  mks  (liroaa. 


Instinct  with  power,  in  tumult  or  repose. 
Hearing  our  liigh  linpfs  with  him  as  lie  goes, 
From  Horembega  and  tha  Nortliern  wiM. 

O  wild  I'eiiobscotI  with  tliy  tliousanil streams 
And  all  thy  clustered  lakes,  divimly  clear! 

Where  fabled  Kiueo  dwelt,  and  wliereon  higli 
Katalidin  dotli  his  rocky  f(,rtiess  rear. 

And  wave  his  mapled  banners  in  the  sky: 
Whether  the  morning  heanis 
Hrigliten  thy  current,  or  t)i<   full-orbed  moon 

Makes  thee  lier  mirror,  thou  art  beautiful  I 

Stretched  on  oak-shelti-red  lieadlaud.    thou 
dost  lull 
.Mine  ear,  all  fanciful  ling'ring  at  noon. 

What  fragrant  nienicries  cluster  on  tliy  »fi'»re: 
The  Norseman  trims  his  weather-beaten  sail, 

Coasting  by  creek  and  cove,  all  wonder-eyed  , 
The  tuneful  (iascon  leans  upon  his  rail, 

As  up  the  stream  his  caravel  doth  glide; 
And,  lo! again  once  more. 
The  dying  Norman  Knight  his  destiny 

Pursues,-  the  City  of  his  radiant  dream, 

Whose  quest  of    tliat  which  here  doth  only 
seem 
Inspired  the  gentle  Hard  of  Amesbury.* 

O  thou  most  lovely  River  '.  liowifig  free 
Tlirough  this  green-hearted  Mainelu  hoeveryet 

Seeing,  admired  and  loved  thee  not'  For  me. 
This  will  I  say,  who  never  can  forget 

Thy  cheery,  rippling  waters,  lovingly 
So  long  I  mused  on  thee  ; — 

*  VV'hiiticr'.s  poem,  "  Norcmhcij;!,  " 


» 


Wi 


» 


69 


•fyi 


Thy  bluffs,  arbtitiis-scoiitcd,  dark  witli  pine; 

Tliy  windiiiR  current,  hearing  into  view 

Tlie  argosies  nf  nations,— the  canoe. 
Light-laden,  of  the  tawny  Tarratine. 

TJie  wcll-!oved  scene  familiar  he  beholds 
Who  once  again  his  boyhood  doth  renew  ; 

Who  looks  on  what  he  loved  in  thatold'time 
The  heart's  tract,  bright  with  sun  and  moist 
witli  (lew. 

While  haunting  memories  nf  his  chi!<lliood-s 
jirinie 
Ills  spirit  now  (infolds 
Ah,  much  19  changed  I  yet  Nature  smiles  on  all. 
And  the  old  scenes  invite  us  as  of  yore ! 
The  Past  -///r  I'a.^l .'  she  seemeth  to  restore. 
If  for  a  moment  we  our  youth  recall 

THR    WI\f/> 

§irARI'  is  the  Marcli  wind  as  a  thorn  ; 
Hut  when  it  blows  the  lambs  an.  born. 
When  mild  and  soft  the  South  wind  blows, 

The  moist  seed  germinates  and  grows. 
Thou  gloomy  East,  our  flowerets  spare! 
Dark  harbinger  of  frost,  forbear  ! 

Blow,  generous  West  Wind  \  thou  shalt  fill 
The  fisher's  net  with  right  good  will. 

Blow,   thou  keen  North  !  our  cheeks  shall 
glow  ; 
And  in  the  maple  sap  shall  flow. 


I 


t«*1 


70      iifi?  lirta  (if  ©In?  ©roaa. 


Lettlie  wind  blow  wliicli  way  it  will, 
It  surely  brings  some  blessing  still  I 

COl'KHXlcrs  AM)  DARVIN 

^NK  looked  above,  and  saw  the  lieavens  as 
new, — 
A  wideningUniverse,  that  Haniedangnst; 
Tlie  otlier  scanned  tlie  eartli,  an<l  clearer  grew 
Tlie  problem  of  the  dew  and  of  the  dust. 

LKiiiT  an;;  shadow 

^^TAltS  above  us  ever  sliine 
(^g\     Brightest  in  the  darkest  night  ; 
^^ Diamonds  down  in  deepest  mine 
Out  of  shadow  flash  their  light: 
Spicus  bruised  tlie  sweeter  smell  : 
>>haken  trees  take  lirmer  root  ; 
And  tile  oft-pruned  vines  excel 
In  the  ricliness  of  their  fruit  : 
(iol  1  and  silvLT  cleaner  show 

For  the  scourer's  skill  ;  and.  mark! 
How  the  fire-w  irrns  fairer  glow, 

IIid<len  in  the  grasses  darki 
.Juniper  its  odor  gives 

Most  profusely  in  the  fire; 
And  the  che<k  the  palm  receives 
>[akes  it  broader  spring  and  liiglier- 
Sweeter  seems  the  matrons  smile. 

For  tlie  sorrow  that  she  bore  ; 
And  the  trodden  camomile 

Will  but  spread  and  grow  the  more: 
Abstinence  gives  keener  force 


iljif  'MithB  m  mils  ^msB.      71 

T.)  desire  indulgence  cloys  ; 

And  our  trials  are  tde  source  ' 

Of  our  most  abounding  joys. 

TIIK  NOUTII-WKST  AKM. 

A.N     INLKT  OK  Tl.K  SEA,    NKAK  „A  LIPA  x,    ^.  ^ 

{ij  And  leaves  ,ts  track  of  splendor  o„  the  sea' 
Vl.ere  ,n  ti.e.r  tranoe  the  slumbering  waters  lie 
Here  ,n  this  lengthened  cove  the  boatglides  by 
The  wood.encircled  shores,  „.ith  villas  crown'd 
There  seems  to  breathe  a  Sabbath  peace  pro-' 

found,  ' 

Or  broken  only  by  the  jay's  shrill  cry 
Ah,  calm  retreat,  to  nurse  and  nourish  souls 
.•^pent  with  long  travail.-to.ls  that  not  avail  ' 
Where  Ocean,  cornered  in  a  cradle-nest 
Forgets  the  leaping  surf,  the  surge  that'rolls- 
(^ives  timely  shelter  to  the  battered  sail 
And  instant  puts  a  thoutand  fears  to  rest. 

THE  CRY.STAL  RILL. 
/^  ET  Sons  of  Folly  lift  on  high 
^     The  beaker  Howing  red  with  wine 
And,    mid  unhallowed  revelry, 

Pollute  <iod's  image,  made  divine; 
Yet  will  I  drink,  where  wild  birds  sing. 

The  nectar,  beautiful  and  good. 
That  gushes  from  the  crystal  spring, 
In  Nature's  sweetest  solitude. 


■  'if 


72 


Iff  liir^a  (if  '§ii$  ©riosa. 


O  Spirit  of  tlie  woodland  rill, 

Thy  face  is  very  fair,  1  know  ! 
And  never,  never  didst  tlioii  llll 

t'liis  weary  world  with  pain  and  woe! 
Ye  haunt  tlie  snnsct  clond  at  even  ; 

Hriglit  ill  the  iris-arch  ye  dwell  ; 
Ye  soften  all  the  lights  of  lieaven  ; — 

Ah,  might  ye  slake  the  thirst  of  Hell  I 

Let  others  woo  the  siren-wine. 

In  Pleasure's  lap  /  was  not  nursed  : 
The  genial  draught  I  choose  as  mine, 

Thiif  shall  allay,  not  feed,  my  thirst. 
The  Ghosts  of  Shame  and  Misery 

Kise  from  the  wine-press  and  the  still  : 
Then  let  me  ever  bide  with  thee, 

<)  Spirit  of  the  woodland  rill  ! 

MILTON. 

'T^HKEE  hundred  years  !    yet  Ilr  is  hriglit 
{(^  and  strong: 

His  Eden  fadeless  blooms;  his  Soul  soars 
free  ; 
And  yet  the  ocean-billow  of  his  Song 
Beats  with  the  pulse  of  the  eternai  Sea. 


s 


LOVE'S  EXI'KEShlON. 

E  not  of  thoiiglit  too  eager. 

He  not  of  speech  too  bilil; 
For  Love,  though  with  an  angel's  tongue. 

Can  never  all  be  told. 


tfrnmr-V: 


©Iff  ItrJia  ®f  M^e  ®roaa.      73 


It  cbbetli  from  expression, 

It  Hies  Time's  vocal  shore  ; 
In  silence  oer  the  secret  heart 

It  (loweth  evermore. 
If  Love's  dear  angel  oometli, 

We  bow  witli  bated  breatli; 
Her  feet  make  lialliwed  the  Hoor, 

Thongli  not  a  wora  she  saitli. 
()  answer  her,  but  softly. 

If  you  slur  cliance  to  greet  ; 
While  the  white  glimmer  of  her  hand 

Makes  bread  she  breaks  more  sweet. 
The  dawn  comes  where  she  smileth. 

Her  face  makes  bright  the  skies  ; 
And  ever  the  Earth  grows  beautiful 

In  tlie  gladness  of  her  eyes. 

LINES 

-.VRITTKN  INDKKTIIK  CARICATl'UK  OP  A    I'OB- 

'rnAiT. 
/^()()K  at  this  face  I  and  therein  see 
^^The  image  and  epitome 

Of  all  a  mortal  should  not  be  : 

A  visage  cruel  and  severe, 

Kut  no  less  coarse  and  mean   is  here  ; 

A  presence,  potent  to  suggest 

Earth's  darkest  souls  and  hatefullest  : 

Mamnum,  a-gloating  in  liis  den  ; 

Fraud,  trading  on  the  faith  of  men  ; 

Demos,  who  hugged  his  earthy  hoard  ; 


(.    i 


74     ®!fi?  MkM  (if  ®I|ip  ^mm. 

And  Judas,  wlio  bctraytd  liis  Lord; 
The  Hell-cat's  spawn,  the  IJragon's  cub, 
''     Moloch,  or  Heelznbub. 

A  brutal  king  in  tavpdry  state, 
This  is  a  presence  man  must  liate  I 
A  soulless  face,  it  says  to  me.— 
"  W/ii>  ii  III  II  iiiiijUhiir;—  What  in  he  .'" 
In  him  the  devotees  of  gold,— 
Tlie  liaters  of  their  kind,—  behold  ! 
Behold,  the  sons  of  doom  and  dearth. 
Who  curse  the  country  of  their  l)irtli:— 
The  stony  Iiearts,  the  men  of  pride, 
Hy  wlioin  the  poor  are  cri:cified  ; 
Who  cheapen  liuman  Hesh,— turn  red 
With  blood  mans  dear-boughtdaily  bread; 
Freeze  liearts  to  ice,  cirses:  c mpel, 
And  feed  with  hate  tlie  Powers  of  Hell. 

Though  Death  should  be  to  Horror  wi  d. 
With  every  thought  a  thousht  of  dread] 
Yet  will  I  bless  the  Just  decree 
Of  dust  aud  cold  mortality, 
Tliat  soon  must  make  an  end  of  me, 
Since  it  may  mark  the  sur.-  declim- 
And  fall  of  such  a  trili*  as.  thine  : 
For  thou,  huge  Mamm.,nite  !— so  shriOiI 
Of  thought,  of  bowels,  aud  (,f  si>nj.— 
A  greater  horror  could  be  never 
Than  that  thyself  might  live  forever  ' 
But.  ah  :  how  fast  soe'er  they  die. 


!■ 


M  Wip 


75 


The  evil  seod  do  multiply  • 

^ouclai,„tl,eeartl,,asattl,e<irst 

Anrfyet,„a„kimllsvex-.iandcur.'t. 

»u    swift  y.,„.  day  is  passing  by, 
And  7A  „,.,  „  „„„t  ^^  y„„r  j,.jg,_  _  ^^^^^  ^ 

If  maddened  men  shall  e>r  arise 
\\'tl.  fulniinaticn  to  theskiev  ' 
1- brand  y„„r  sons  in  bloody  ire 
And  wrap  yonr  palaces  with  lire- 
Howling  anathema  and  woe 
Over  wide  wreck  and  overthrow  - 

v'^'"*^'-"  ^><a"  no  .nore  endure' 
W  ruin  now  is  swift  and  sure  .-l 
If  such  .s/,o„w  be,  it  will  be  due 

REPEAT    THE   SO.\G. 

'  liiivf  h:iil  rint'iiH-  1,1  my  ^. 
•-"irs,  ,„  ,„v  bn,i„,  a,".!,  ,  l.eliUe'T""",''"   "*""  ""'  '"  '">' 

May,  wth  the  otl,c-r  ,nrK   1,  ,s  hr,    l"'>'l"><--'-.:..ul  which 

I-r.  was  ....t,„a,lef.„,„r,.,„v  • 
Iw,,   co.„.,al,,s,    Hu.  s„„„  ,„,„  „,„ 

«-Wlsw,ilh.s„„,shi„e,„, ;„,,:. 

lirfcJ,„.,<N.vL  OK  I>Asr„„   Kki.,,;. 


(( 


:©0°"''"re'sin';'''"'"'-'6'''^'-rd 
And  calm  thy  fearful  heart,  O  lover 


mine 


"  ^"''  was  not  meant  for  sorrow  ■>"  f  i, 
^oa.oreatpalemi.fortuneTJtter'sti^r"'' 


76     ®I|P  lirJifl  (if  Mtis  ©roaa. 


Miacliance  may  come,  and  o'er  tliy  spirit  fling 
Its  midnight  dolors,  noontide  shadows  gray  ; 
Vet,  give  tliee  cheer,  niethonglit  I  lieard  thee 

say, 
Some  brlghfning   morrow   will  the  sunshine 

bring. 
O  lift  thine  eyes  to  yon  celestial  blue  ! 
Strike  ko  the  chords  of  thy  bold  harp  amain! 
See  how  the  clouds  win  glory  of  the  siin  '. 
So  with  thy  sorrow,  it  shall  brighten,  too; 
There  shall  be  rest  to  sweeten  after  pain. 
And  peace  eternal  when  the  strife  is  done. 

THE  FAITH-MEN. 

A  SONO  OF  THE  MAKOIUNO  Mri.TnTDE. 

T  XgvE'RE  COMING,  coming  up  the  way !  our 
\\)  feet  with  steel  are  shod  1 

We're  coming  up  the  old  world-way,  our 
cry  has  gone  abroad, — 
The  host  whose  cause  is  human  weal,  who  flght 

the  fight  of  God. 
Tramp — tramp — tramp— firm  and  free  be 

our  tread.' 
To  the  height  of  man^n  right  must  our  army 

be  led  ; 
The  way  and  goal  of  each  true  soul  our  Bax- 
ter hath  bKHtoii'cd 
Oh  all  who  seek  it, — i/e  who  hinder,  VLEA  R 
THE  ROAD— CLEAR  THE 
ROAD! 

O  we  are  coming  I  make  ye  room, — ye  hateful, 
fearful  brood. 


Who  dream  that  «af«>tj  lies  with  i'l,  who  have 

not  faith  in  good, — 
For  tlie  Sons  of  Kaith,  the  Sons  of  Migli'  —a 

.Miaruhing  mnltitude  '. 
Tr(ti,iii—lr<tmp—ti<n»p—Jir)n  and  frrr  be 

itnr  In  ail  ! 
Tit  Ihr  hriiihl  nut  lifniiiht  xhnll  i»ir  fnoislepit 

/.r  III!  ; 
A  kinillhiji  Slur,  not  fni  1,1  ur  ffir,  ImlUii'rr 

Lift's  iiiountahi  r/loircil  : 
Manx  vuHHC  h  nficriil  ; — )/r   irtii,  n/)i,il  it, 

Cr.EA  H  THE  llOA  I)— CLE  A  R 
THE  ItOAD; 

O  ye,  who  prey  upon  mankind,  who  sell  the  poor 

for  liire! 
O  ye,  who  burn  man's  blood  and  brain  with 

flames  of  liquid  Are! 
The  Sons  of  God  are  on  your  track,~beware 

their  righteous  ire  I 
Tramp— tramp— tramp,— firm  and  frrclte 

our  tread  .' 
To  the  /leir/htof  Jfiarm's  light  and  Truth's 

victory  led  ; 
Broad  flames  the  day,  clear  lies  thctvay, — 

the  place  of  our  abode, — 
Afan's  goal  of  Honor  ; — ye   who    bar    it, 

CLEAR  the  ROAD— CLEAR 
the  ROAD  ! 


I 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION    TiST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


^  APPLIED  IM/IGE     Inc 

S^  1653   East   Wain    Sfreel 

r'-S  Rjchesler,    New    York         14609       USA 

ii^S  (716)   182  -  0300  -  Phone 

S^  (716)   288  -  5989  -  fa« 


78 


TlIK    WOKLD. 

/TJII.  World  :  tirr  i/'iii  wild  can  atone  ■.' 
ti[      Wlios  tanrt  at  (lod's  liigli  Tlironc  for 

At  Stcplifii  still  je  liiirl  tlu'  stone, 
Ye  criieify  tile  Christ  anew 

FRANCES.    K.    UlLLAHI). 

'J^OO  soon  the  grave  hath  claimed  thy  mortal 

\^  f(irni  : 

Too  siioii  for  us  the  palace  of  the  sky 

Hath  won  its  guest  to  high  security, 
VVhereTruthisradiaut,  and  where  Love  is  warm. 
Calm,  steady   well-poisd  soul,  set  mid  Earths 

storm. 
Spending  so  lavishly  life's  sacred  oil. 
Lighting  to  multifarious  thought  and  toil 
Tliy  banded  Sisters  .'     Love  in  tliee  was  norm 
Magnetic  ;   Faith  rose  eminent  in  thee  : 
Nothing  was  wasted  treasure  God  made  thine. 
And  must  wo  say.  Adieu  ?  Inspiring  Soul  ! 
Now  must  we  miss  thy  graceful  mastery  ? 
Our  tear-wet  laurels  lay  we  on  thy  shrine, 
And  with  thy  latest  word  our  heart  console. 

A  HALLAD  OK  THK  THREE  MARIKS. 
/^WAKE  !  it  is  near  the  dawning  ! 
Mf     I  have  heard  the  cocks  shrill  cry 
J       And  the  stars  their  golden  grains  dissolve 
In  the  cup  of  the  azure  sky  : 
Awake,  my  sisters,  and  come  with  me  I 
From  your  tear  wet  pillow  arise  ; 


Ilii 


^■ha  lirSia  ©f  l^r;.?  Crsaa. 


79 


Take  spi... St.  sweeten  tl..el,a„,l,er.,f  death 

Then  cn„,e  away,  while  tf,e  skies  are  p.aj' 
V"-lt),.hir,l„f,iawnnp.f|i,s. 

'"  ^»"'  she  idly  weepeth, 

/^''"'se  joys  like  manna  decay, 

'""''-'iauninfrs  bath  of  gray 

'IH- purest  and  dearest  Of  earth  liesdead. 
\\l"'eodlikespakeand  wr.nght  • 

T  I.e. Master  has  Kone  the  way  that  he  said - 
Hut  a  woman's  love  dies  not  ■ 

H.s  .mage  we  II  cherish,  till  memory  perish 
lie  cannot  be  forgot  .' 

Oh,  IlK  was  fair  of  the  fairest' 

The  loveliest  S.„il  was  Hk  • 

What  is  the  Rose  that  i„  Miaron  grows 

Or  the  Lily  upon  Lhe  lea  " 
Or  what  is  the  sheen  of  the  .Morning  Star 

When  He  who  loved  us  is  gone  afar  •^_ 

The  blood  of  my  Slain  Lamb  Hows  amain 
My  h.:rt  Dove  quiveretli  : 

Now  snowy  the  wall,  of  yon  Temple, 
"'"'»«t"«ers  the  dawn  makes  gold- 
Hut  w„ter  and  fairer  that  bruised  shrine 
Lieth  so  lone  and  cold  ! 


'h 


I  J,; 

fe<7 


80     iJji?  IwJsai  ®f  W^f  (i.mm. 


And  sweet  is  tlie  (iarden's  cddrdiis  I'.iind, 
\Vitl\  its  tlioiisaiid  llower»  in  liloi.ni  ; 

But  sweeter  His  breatli,  ere  lie  went  to  His 
deatli, 
Wlio  lietli  in  yonder  tomb. 


But  did  He  not  say  tliat,  ere  lir»ak  of  day, 
He  should  sunder  its  frosty  gloom  ? 

Oil,  Sisters  1  wliat  awful  music  '. 

What  trembling  of  sky  and  ground  '. 
Tlie  heavens  and  the  earth  niiglit  liave  passed 
away 
In  that  depth  of  thundrous  sound  I 
O  Sisters  !  what  lustre,  surpassing  far 

The  suns  meridian  ray  1 
What  splendor  and  grace  '.    O'er  his  dazzling 
face 
The  vivid  lightnings  play  1 

And  see  you  not,  dear  sisters! 

Where  His  snow-white  robe  if  spread, 
The  Uonian  (Juard,  with  iheirspi-arsgripped 
hard, 
Are  fallen  down  as  dead  ? 
Like  a  conquering  King,  in  His  majesty. 

He  calmly  sits  to  say  : 
"Ye  women  wlio  loved  Him,  approach  and 
see 
Where  once  your  Master  lay  ; 
Lo,  111-  in  ariscti!  His  empty  prison 
Lies  open  to  the  day  ! '' 


elfip  S^Tdig  ©f  £;;j?  eroaa.     81 


(),  joy  1    I  nor  aut  tiik  MA.STKU  I 
Thou  speak  St  wlio  came  t<i  save  '. 
1  deenieil  tliee  but  tlie  keeper  of 

This  Etanlen  and  tliis  j;rave. 
"  J/,  I  h'  y  .'  "'  Tliou  say'st  .  .  Haste,  histers, 
liasie  I 

The  blissful  word  proclaim  1 
The  tuiiib  He  breaks,  and  thereby  makes 

The  {;ross  a  glorious  slianie  I 
Such  wondrous  love  the  Kartli  sliall  prove, 

.Such  power  shall  Heaven  acclaim  : 

O,  Prince  of  Peace  !— J/.//  Savior  '. 

(»  glorious  Mori'ing  Star  : 
Tlie  (Jates  of  Hope  to  our  lost  race 

Thy  rising  shall         ar  : 
The  alien  hosts  shall  press  to  kiss 

Thy  tiowing  vesture's  hem. 
Whose  royal  dress  is  KHillTKOUSNESS, 

And  LOVE,  wliose  diadem. 
Thy  chant  we"ll  raise,  "mid  endless  days, 

Monarch  of   Bethlehem  '. 


I  m 


A  SONG  OF   EXILE. 

©LAND,    of    fragrant   fields,   and    living 
streams  .' 
O  land  of  swelling  waters  !  unto  thee 
I  turn  my  eyes, — thou  fair  abode  of  dreams  I 

Thou  blossom-  country,  girdled  by  the  sea  I 
Again  tlie  linnet  sings  his  song  to  me  ; 


"if: 


82      Sii^r  Wixisi  iiiJ  SIii|e  ©rcza. 


Again  tin-    WhitetliKiat    warbU's  ;    aiul  niict' 
more 
I  tread  tlic  cliaiiiln'i'S  nf  tlif  Min,  made  fit  <■ 
From  care,  initiate  to  tlie  iiijsterv 

Of  nisliin^  tides  1  y  every  snuiulin^  tilnire. 

Ye  hills  of  lioiiie  '.  ye  boiinie  native  woods 
Of  nnne  own  land  ;  are  ye  yet  nui.sical, 
As  when  I  loved  Ijeneatli  your  shade  to  dwell''' 
Are  yonr  seats  haunted  by  soft  sinyinj;  broods'.' 
Does  the    Woodjiecker  harint  your  soiitiides 
With  his  loiul-tapping  i>ill, — tlie  j^olden-winged 
And  tlie  familiar''  Are  the  lyres  all  stringed, 
Of  yoursweet-breathing  pines  whose  interludes 
Between  tlie  whispering  leaves  so  ncm  mine 

ear  '.' 
Or  conies  to  yo'i  the  Hluebird's  carid  still '.' 
Does  Kobin  April's  evi  ning  silence  fill 
With  the  old  cheery  sound,  so  sweet  to  hear'.' 
— So  many  friends  are  gone,  it  soothes  my  ]>aiii 
To  think  how  yet  thy  singing  birds  remain. 

O  Land  !  my  Land  !  to  thee  the  Spring  reti;rns; 

The  Summer  liastens  on  a  thousand  wings, 
With  thy  rejoicing  birds  ;  and  my  heart  yearns 

For  all  thy  balmy,  gentle  ministeMiigs. 
O  sweet  .\cadian  Land  !  my  Fatlieis'  Land  I 

The  Land  of  the  Arbutus  and  the  I'ine  ; 
Haunt  of  the  Kobin, — memory-liaiinted  strand. 

Can  I  forget  that  thnu  art  inhii, — .\y,  mine"? 
Loved,  lost,  estranged, — yet  it  forbids  despair 
To  think  thy  smiling  vales,  thy  singing  Lird>, 
are  tliere. 


&'i;|ip  mshz  @f  2' 


tft  iu.;ri-33„ 


83 


•'I- 


I  s.'e  til.'.'  wlifii  the  Oaiiilelit.ii  blcws  ; 

111  Hiittf,!'.:;;s  and  Daisies  tln.u  ait  fair  ; 
I  K'-'-ft  tli.-H  in  tlie  Willi  IJiierand  tlie  Rose  ; 

I  S'e  tlice  when  tiiy  sunset  ski.'s  ild  wear 
Tlie  ;;l(iwint;  {;ail)  tliat  .Summer  (inly  knows  : 
<)  Home  :  hived  !1  mie,  I  may  nut  visit  more  '. 

And  I),  dear  graves,  wlieremine  may  never  be! 
To  you  I  send,— to  ,/,w  </,  niy  native  shore  : 

Tlie  Messane.swalhiw  and  the  Coiirier-Iiee, 
To  ask  of  thee  thy  wonted  woodland-lore  : 

— -SaV,  IIAVK  Till-:  IlIKDS  COMK  liACK  1(1  ACADIK? 

TllK  nAl'PIE.ST  KINGDOM. 

FHOM    Till-;    GKK.MAN    OK    KKKXKU. 

N'(;K.  when  sat  the  German  Princes 
Feasting  high  in  royal  liall, 

Praised  for  wisdom  wealth  and  valor 
Kacli  liis  land  the  first  of  all. 

Boldly  spake  the  royal  Saxon  : 

"  First  is  mine  in  wealth  and  power  ; 
Silver  seams  run  through  my  mountains, 

(ileaming  gold— a  priceless  dower  !' 
"  But,  heliold  ;/(;/  living  largess  !" 

Spake  the  Ruler  of  the  Rhine  : 
"  Vales,  all  nodding  to  the  harvest, 

Mountains,  purple  with  the  vine." 

"Cities  teeming,  larded  cloisters," 
Ludwig  spake,  of  liaierns  throne  ; 
"These  do  make  my  sum  of  treasure 
Equal,  surely,  to  your  own." 


•■i:f 


H 


84      ¥bt  mxtB  (!?f  a'Pi?  IIxcbb. 


Etierliard.  tlic  fidldcii-liearteil, 
\Viirteiiibur};s  licliivi'd  kiii(.'> 

Said  :   "  I  cannot  boast  mv  cities. 
Nor  Miy  minus  tliat  silver  111  inj;  ; 

"  Y«t,  among  lier  liills  and  foirsts. 

My  lieart's  jewel  lietli  snrt'  ; 
For  tliere  is  no  lint,  no  cottape, 

Where  I  may  not  rest  seenre." 

Then  ontspakc  tlie  Saxon  UnliT, — 
He  of   HaitTn, — lie  from  the  lihine  : 

"Thourt  the  noblest,  tlmn'rt  the  ricliest. 
And  the  happiest  land  is  thine  !' 

TIIEODOKK    IIAKDING    HANI). 

9 All;  is  the  morn  !     All,  \es.  the  Spring  is 
fair  : 
The  dandelion  wakes  on  the  green  lea  ; 
The  plonfihinan   walks,  and  from  his  pointed 

share 
The  furrow  turns,  wliilealanuing  swallows  Hee. 
See  I  sun  and  vnve  have  their  old  jollity  '. 
Nature  ignores  o'.ir  j>rief  in  smilinf:  piay. 
Ah  lyes,  the  Spring  is  fair,  anil  fair  the  Day! 
But  o'er  the  sunshine  falls  a  shade,  to  nie: 
For,  closed,  the  eyes  tliat  saw  all  beauty  here; 
And  stilled,  the  heart  that  filt  tl^e  1<.\(   of  S"i: 
Silent,  that  gohlen  harp  of  tone  sincere  ; 
Gone,  the  old  friendliness  be^  imd  recall  ; 
Fallen,  the  pen  of  light  that  wrote  no  word, 
Save  when  that  sea  like  Soul  was  by  lis  Angel 
stirred  ' 


.^?e  ^ftirSia  ©f  Kl;!i  (Ercaa.      85 


§ 


Al'HlL. 
HK1!K  caini-  an  limir-   a  sullen  lumr. 

Wli.n  lif,,  „as  ilullaiiil  dun, 
When-  ncuT  sniilril  a  lic,[,»'fu|  Hdwer. 

Or  laiijjlied  a  luinliful  sun  ; 
Tlicre  sienied  no  solace,  no  df light. 

No  vernal  promise  true. 
In  any  scene  tliat  met  my  sight,— 

And  it  was  Ai-mi,,  to.)  : 

There  eanie  a  shower,  -  a  sudden  sliower 

Of  miufiled  snow  and  rain  ; 
And  then,  witliin  the  ra<liant  liour, 

A  snn-hurst  Mashed  ajjain  : 
Apain  the  eartli  wa<  strangely  bright, 

The  sky  was  strangely  blue  ; 
Anil  all  rejoiced  who  saw  the  siglit,— 

Ami  //(/.«  was  Ai'Kii.,  too  I 


I' 


KKOISos. 


The  v,,iCfol  Fillljf 
fids  flR■|ivl■^  iiI'mu'Ii  lli:it  |,;i, 
lui  >tnr\  .     Kr.iisns"  kiriitiv  li 


Ali.lU-  ,:■■. 

I)iv>  n..i. 

IM.NDAU       I'lH^r  I'vtieian  Oln.. 
KALTIl  and  Fan\e.  tliou  knowst,  ()  Pin- 
dar I 
Other  gifts  are  prized  before  tlienii 
Would  we  grasp  them.  Fate  may  hinder  ; 
We  may  have  them,  yet  deplore  tlieni: 
Hut  a  Spirit.  hea%enward  moving. 
Ami  a  true  heart,  pure  and  loving. 
From  all  taint  and  bon<lage  freed  — — 
Fortune  these,  and  wealth,  indeed  '. 


■'A 


86     &ki  'SKhB  ©f  ®Ji'e  CSraiaa. 

While  the  lire  wliefis  of  tliiiif  Art 

Flame  in  n.jhle,  liigli  endeavor, 
Kltoi^os,  of  tlie  kiiiill}  heart, 

Dies  not, —  //'  lives  on  forever  1 
Happier  tlienie  no  lyre  befalls, — 
Filling  all  Fame's  lofty  halls 
With  the  sweet  strains'  unison. 
In  the  praise  of  Love's  dear  Son. 


STATESMAN  AND  I'OKT. 

©F  KANK  and  Learning,  I'omp  and  I'ride, 
vfe  tire. 
When  from  their  piles  we  pass,  to  note, 
by  turns. 
The  lowly  birth,  tlie  high,  sagaeious  fire. 
That  mark  the  state  of  Lincoln  and  of  Burns. 

THK  SHIPS  OF  THE  CZAR. 

\  "l(5\n  AT  lias  become  of  the  Fleet  ? 
\KJ     Where  are  the  ships  of  tlie  Czar  V 
On,  to  the  doom  of  defeat 

Lured  by  their  evil  star  1 
Where,  with  War's  thunderbolts  laden. 
Sailing  past  Calpe,  past  Aden, — 
Where  are  they  who  went  forth — 
The  Armada  of  the  North, — 
Like  that  Orcadian  winds  did  sweep 
From  the  yexed  bosom  of  the  deep, 
Out  of  th«  lists  of  war  ? 
Whal  has  become  of  ihe  Fleet  .' 
Wlierr  are  the  S/iips  of  the  Czar.' 


Ci-'tfip  ':ikm  ©f  e'Ifip  Cicazz.      87 

Wliai  lins  hei'oiiic  i.f  the  KItrt  '.' 

Tlir  liarhi.r  of  Ki..iiMa(lt  tl.c.v  clear  <l ; 
Tlieii,  weivitlieeriii);  thcdsaiid  tojjre.t. 
As  Siiutliwanl  pii.iiill}  tliey  steord  .' 
Wliere  are  the  hattle-.ships  (;i',iie  ■■_ 
Answer  thcii,   I)M-.\i|.|.nN  ; 
F<ir  their  wrath  was  ilireete.l  (,ri  joii, 
And  the  valorous  deeds  they  shouM  d„ 
Must  the  wide  world  amaze  with  wonder, 
Ami  pale  the  Orient  witli  tlieir  thunder! 
And  Kame  shoiil.l  their  grandeur  com- 
plete, 
And  trumpet  their  glory  afar  .' 
U'/iif/  I,, IS  hrchiiir  iifthr  Fin  I  ? 
Wlirn  ai-i'ihi   Shijmnffhr  Czitr.' 

What  hasheconie  of  tlie  Fleet'.' 

Where  are  the  Shijis  of  the  Czar  ■' 
Did  Tyi)lM,n  upon  them  Ijeaf.' 

Or  them  did  the  rock-reef  scar'.' 
Did  the  Trident-kinfr,  in  his  pride. 
Flout  and  sweep  them  aside  '.' 
Or  did  Vukan,  with  deed  insane, 
Rend  them,  ujjon  the  main  '.' 
Or  did  the  trr)pic  calm  enthrall. 
Or  fierce  the  tempest  on  them  fall, 
Vi  ..ere  stretrhes  the  sandy  bar, 
And  the  runihling  rollers  beat. 
With  sudden  shock  and  jar  '.' 
WhdthdK  Ixfunie  nf  fhii  Flni  '! 
Will  ri  nrr  fhr  Shipsi  of  the  C~(ir.> 


'I 


m 


in : 


What  lias  liei'iinic  nf  tlic  Klfft '.' 

Wlifri'  arc  the  Miips  i.f  llic  C/.ar'.' 
What  fate,  if  Tdgn  tiny  iiitit, 

Or  it  Trill  open  ttie  war, 
Will  l>efal  wild  issiifd  fcirtli 
Thro'  tlie  icy  j;nti's  of  tlif  Nurtli  '.' 
W'l.ut  if,  ere  tlii'ir  vdjajjc  l)c  iliiiif, 
Tlie  Sims  nf  tlie  Uisiii);  Mm 
Sweep  (Hit  fruiii  senile  .slielteriiiK  slicire. 
Willi  (Jims  tliat  like  linns  nrar  ; 
Smite  tlieiu  witli   veiipeanee  dire, 
Ami  ciirddii  tlieiii  witli  lire  ; 
And  make  the  battle  roar  and  hiss, 
Like  thdse  old  <i reeks  at  Salaiiiis, 
Or  Nelson,  whose  splendid  star 
Flamed  highest  at  Trafalgar  : 
Till  with  blood  and  terrilile  heat, 

WheliTied  in  the  Hood  they  are? 
]yh(i>  lifin  liridinr  iif  llii   Fli  <  I  ! 
W'htrc  are  tin  SliijtK  of  l/ir  Cznr  ; 


What  has  become  of  the  Fleet  ? 

Where  are  the  ships  of  the  tzar  '.' 
Speak  !  thou  just  God,  from  thy  seat. 

And  tell  the  round  world  where  they 
are  ! 
Such  doom,  when  (o  •  greed  they  make 

war. 
Be  ever  for  tyrants  in  store  I 
Down  in  the  depth  below, 
Where  the  corse  and  the  kraken  go  ; 


St'p 'vutrna  ®f  i[;(rj^  SlrrpgB.       81» 


«ll'.|..  til,.  j;j,r,i..,„,,f  ,|„.  ,|,...,, 
In   lUv  |'.-ll..  ifn      „    ^i:,.,ir.-    si.  ,.|,  ; 

WliiTHtli,.  Slav,.,  s  i.iilk  «ns  n  ll.il. 

Ami  thf  yalli-.,!,  „j(|,  lis  y,,|,|  . 

WlM-rr  tliiTrIi    s  ami  ti-.-as.  i^-s  |i,.. 

Tlir     Jr.'  Inst  t..  ih..  .artli  ami  »ky  :— 

■Ml. •>■..,  witli  tl,,.  sli„„.  ai,,l  thrilark. 

Wli.r,  liol.tniM,..  raj  aii.l  ii,  spark; 
Wiwrv  .■,,,iies  no  sii,l,|,.|i  sliri.k  i,r  roar 
Where  l.attle-tliM!  .>rs  .s<  i,„.|  ,„.  i,:„r,. ': 

W.-.ls  f.ir  tlicir      indiiijj.sliKt. 
liatttr  il  anil  ..ri.kiii  in  «ar, 

'''"■'■■  "■'<"'■    /.'o,.,,,. ,.,,/■/',,,. 
/■/,',-,   „,•.    ,„,    .Ships  ,.,11,,    (■.„,■! 


•MMi  >    KAVoIil'l  K. 
A\   (ll.li    I 'ai;i,i,    is    X    \,.;„    I)|[|;.i„. 

'*fT^''''^''''"    ^*''  '■"  """■  fav"iil.-s  reumst 
i^  .,tt.-n,i:  Tlinstlici  Iiit  prttMl  I'fac<ick 
pli'ad: 

"  Hiclilv  tlion  liast  ci.rli.wed  ,n.-: mark   this 

hn-ast. 

These  painted  fan-lik.-}rlnrieshr,,a(llv  spread: 
Vet,  c.ne  im.re  gitt  ti.  hid  n.v  heart  H'j.,i(e,— 
(iive  me  til..  .\i(;litin};ales  iiiel,,dn,iis  m.\J.  ■ 

Darkened  the  hr.w  „f  the  (dt-f-racions  (,(,„■,  n  ■ 
•A  Uheral  d.,«..r  have  I  ,.n  y.ai  e<.nf.rrMl- 

«hatstarrj;;rae.-.',vl,atrainhn«  tint  and  sheen 
Are  prl.ndl^  y<  n.s,  my  fail,  si,  fa\<irii.  bird' 
I'onteiit  yun,  then  ;  n.,r  niaki'  a  vain  jiri'tence 
In  evrrythiiiff  t.,  h.dd  preeinin.  nee." 


I. 


.■.f' 


')   III 


90     ilbi?  lir&a  ®f  Ite  ©ruaa. 


HYMN, 

WBITTKN   FOR  A  ClIII.Ds'  FI.OWKIt-KKSTIVA  I.. 

^^yPKS  of  our  Savidr,  ye  symbols  so  (ih-ri- 
^)  ous, 

O'er  tlie  earth  scattered,  i>r  s'-t  in  tl:e  sky. 
Speak  to  our  hearts  with  a  language  victorious, 
Tel!  us  of  Ilini  wlio  ascended  on  liigh  ! 

Bring  ns  Mis  Lilies,  that  tell  of  His  puiity  ; 

Bring  tis  His  Hoses,  all  red  like  His  hlood  : 
Bring  us  His  Palm,   type  of  rest  and  security. 

Home  of  refresliment,  and  (iarden  of  l.od. 

Show  U;i  tlie  Morning  Star,  clearest  and  bright- 
est : 

Sluiw  us,  at  twiliglit.  His  gem  o'er  the  sea  ; 
Rise,  ()  thou  Kock,  the  wild  billow  tliatsiiiitesti 

Star  of  our  hope,  and  sure  refuge,  is  He. 

Bread  for  us  broken,  our  precious  subsistence, 
Feeding  our  souls  in  the  desolate  waste  ; 

Fount  upon  fount  flowing  up  from  the  distance. 
When  we  are  thirsty,  deliglitiiig  w  t  taste. 

Fruit-bearing    Vine,  wide-extending   thy 
brandies. 
In  thee  my  life-giving  Savior  I  sec  ; 
Flocks   of   the   folds,  scattered  wide  o'er  the 
ranches. 
Unspotted  Lamb,  andCiood  Shepherd,  is  He. 

Home   of  my   childhood,   my  memory's  fond 
centre, 
Portal  beloved!  tliou  sayest  to  me. 


®!jiip  MuM  m  iljp  m-oBB,     91 

IlrUth,  /;„-„-.and  by  Himtliou  n.ay'st  enter- 
M«  IS  thy  Way;  thy  Cn.panion  is  He. 

Types  ..f  „„r  Savior,  exalt  Hi„,,  express  Hi„,  ■ 
hn,l,leM,s  of  beauty,  in  sky  and  in  sea  ■ 

Howers  of  the  field,  in  your  bloonung  confess 

Hright  with  the  smile  of  His  welcome  are  ye: 

THE  BHITISH   FLAG. 

FROM  Till.:  KBENCH  OF  I.OUIS    FkkchetTK. 

iht  H^r"-"''   ':'""yi'"»  falhr,-,  pniMin,,  to 


<? 


-1^ 


|IiGA  HD,  my  son,— admire,  " 
So  spake  to  me  my  sire,— 
,"  Von  banner,  bravely  borne. 
Wherever  wakes  the  morn ! 
Our  Land,"  my  Father  said, 
"Hath  prospered  where  it  led  ; 
Where'er  that  Flag  may  be, 
It  dwells  with  Liberty. 

'  That  banner,  son  of  mine, 
Is  Britain's  bright  ensign  ; 
Ever  it  wares  on  high 
In  unstained  majesty  ; 
Unfolding  everywhere. 
It  gladdens  all  the  air; 
And  over  land  and  sea 
It  floats  triumphantly. 


I 

it. 


ft 


1p 


92     ilfp  atir&a  ®f  '®l!|e  ®ro00„ 


"  An  eiglith  part  of  the  f;li.lie 
Its  beauty  dotli  eiiiube  ; 
The  ensign  of  ci>niniand, 
It  waves  ii'er  ninny  a  land; 
llidiri<;,  with  color  new, 
Some  bit  of  lieaven  s  bine  ; — 
i'et  ne'er  obscures  a  ray 
In  that  serene  of  day. 

*'0'er  continent  and  sea 
It  towers  exultantlj  ; 
And  ever,  where  it  flies, 
(io  Art  and  Enterprise  : 
.See  its  red  glow  enierue 
Frtjni  Ocean's  farthest  verge, 
While  desert  lands  remote 
Heboid  it  proudly  float 

"  It  waves  o'er  great  and  small ; 

Its  impress  is  on  all  : 

To  far  oft  wild  and  den. 

To  tribes  of  savage  men. 

It  comes,  to  charm  their  sight, 

A  harbinger  of  light, 

And  to  the  world  supplies 

Each  art  may  civilize. 

"  And  in  the  march  direct 

Uf  human  intellect. 

Through  mists  and  twilights  gray 

Behold  it  lead  the  way  ; 

Like  dove,  from  ark  released, 

After  the  flood  had  ceased, 


®lfr  MuM  &t 


■■tBBB. 


93 


"rgnidiiiKcoluimi  hjgli 
Uprcared  at  .Sinai. 

"That  glorious  Klaj;,  of  old. 
In  <lays  wlien  men  wore  bold. 
•  iainst  onrs  was  lififd  liigli 
In  martial  rivalry  ; 
'I'lien  was  it  deemed  the  peer 
Of  ours,  and  destined  liere 
To  bring  defeat-  /,„/  ../,„„„_ 
In  the  hot  race  of  Fame. 

"Ah  I  then  was  provn  its  might 
In  many  a  famous  light ; 
O'er  many  a  sea  unfurled. 
Men  saw  its  thunders  hurled  ; 
Through  troubled  years,  at  length, 
1 1  measu red  strength  with  strength ; 
Theirs— ours— alternately, 
Defeat  and  victory. 

"(iod's  wil!  alone  may  be  ! 
—lie  doomed  the  /■'/', irx-tlr-liyx 
Before  fhat  F/ar/  to  bow,— 
Secure  and  sovereign  now  : 
Though  oft,  by  hill  and  glen, 
It  wrought  us  sorrow  then. 
It  since,  of  old  distress 
Hath  taught  forgetfulness. 

"  And  if,  with  regal  sway 
That  banner  float  to-day 
Yon  rocky  rampart  o'er, 


ill 


If 


I, 


94      Whs  WiuhB  W  ilbi?  Cwaa. 


1; 

ii 

Sacred  to  France,  of  vore, 
It  waves  benignantly 
Above  a  people  free  ; 
No  faith  dotli  it  b«'tray. 
It  takes  no  right  away. 

"Vanished,  each  gloomy  form 
Of  battl    and  of  storm  ; 
Forget,  as  best  we  may 
In  brightness  of  to-day. 
The  sorrow  of  tlie  past. 
Since  Peace  hath  come,  at  last : 
And  since,  my  Son,  we  have 
O'er  us  yon  banner  brave, 
Our  Freedom  and  our  Faith 
To  cover  from  all  scaith. 
Let  us,  whene'er  we  see. 
Salute  it  rcrerentli/.  '' 

— "  Bsit,  Father,— if  I  dare 
To  question, — yet  forbear 
And  pardon,  if  I  err  : 
Which  Flag  must  ire prc/rrf 
Say,  is  there  not  ONE,  yet? 
Our  own— 7«!«^  we  forget  f" 
"Ah,  ?/ia< .'"  exclaimed  my  Sire, 
His  moist  eyes  flashing  fire, 
While  deep  his  accents  spring, 

"  That— THAT  !— the  carte  of  cartes! 

The  Lily  of  our  hearts  ! 

— That's  quite  another  thing  ! 


W  ifji?  Cro00.      95 


Oiir  lifiniage  we  confer  ; 

/•'"'■  //'  miixl  l,„,r,  ,r/,o  „■,;„, 
■  i'ld  kixs  it  nil  hin  /:„(i  K.'" 

TUK   HHOOK.   '^ 
T^li.m  brook,  bv  wl,ich  my  childisb  feet 
*;     Were  wo„t  i„  infancy  to  run, 

!•  lowing  -mid  fern  anil  meadow-sweet, 

Tlie  fairest  nnderneath  tlie  sun! 
Through  pastures  rich  in  mint  and  balm 
And  wliere  the  flowering  laurels  grow, 
W  ithgur-ling  sound,  'mid  evening's. calm 

I  followed  still  as  thou  didst  gr-. 
Where  alders  overhang  thy  wave, 

Where  stately  cliffs   frowned 'o'er  thee 
high. 
Still  dost  thou  chant  thy  cheery   stave- 

Thy  soft,  unending  lullaby, 
ilere,  "mid  the  .\ugust  heat.  I  came 

To  bathe  me  in  thy  crystal  pool. 
When  sank  to  rest  day\s  sultry  flame. 

And  1  bad  been  released  from  school. 
Here  by  the  hour  I  loved  to  sit. 

And  pore  upon  thy  dinipling'tide: 
Rippling  and  quivering  at  my  feet 
In  whorls  and  eddies  wouWst  thou  glide. 

The  flowers  are  thy  compani.ins  still 
Ihy  guardian  birches  oer  thee  lean- 

The  moon  her  golden  round  doth  fill 
And  in  thy  glass  is  mirrored  seen    ' 


J)  owed     8M>jk, 


w 


,V,,'A 


w  J  S     ■"  tir 


■VVVJ-)         M^ 


Im^  h^-V^  ' 


m 


,,1. 


96 


»  iSlrSa  (if  alhi?  (SlnusE. 


Flow  on,  as  luiisical  and  tifet, 

()  streamlet,   (ince  my  priilf  anil  caic  I 
Thy  watt'isniit  less  imri-  nr  swc  t. 

Thy  llowtry  Ixiiders  nut  liss  fair. 
Till)"  youtli  and  lionie  and  friends  are  gone, 

And  ]  from  lliee  am  far  away, 
1  hear  thy  voice  in  that  far  dawn, 

Tlion  freslieiust  in  my  heart  to-daj 
(),  brook  :  '-Thro'  shade  and  sunny  i^leani,'' 

Ahing  thy  track  of  bonndin(>  joy 
Still  How,  the  same  deli}:hltnl  stieani 

I  followed  when  I  was  a  hoy  1 

THK   HILLS  OK  SCOTLAM). 

AScoitish  iiiiiidfii.  sick  uiui  <!yiii;:.  wlin  was  iiiiikintr 
her  jnuniey  Ircmi  AllK;:icii  t"  liur  iialivu  t;ind,  w;is 
brou!,-hloii  deck  h-  her  alti-ndiMil  ju^t  :il  sini-tl.  "  Is  thf 
scene  bciiutiful  .'"  lhi.y  imniiri.d.  who  ^iitht  k  d;n cuiid  her- 
'■  V-s,''  sheuiiswtrid,  "bul  I'd  s.iiiiui  ^<c■  tin;  lulls  i.l  :sc(l- 
laiul."  'llivii.  cl.isiii^v  hi-rcyi-s  ten  a  ii.ou'.^ru  and  ciptidiig 
IhuiH  a;;ai[i,  Iiit  )acrln..i^  on  an  t'xpn'ssi-  not'  u'latllicss.atid 
shccxclainu'd  :— '•  I  si-e  lllclll  nno.  tin' aye  they're  bonnit ! 
— tllev're  hoMi  ie  !  Hut  I  ne.er  kenned  before  that  11  was 
the  bills  of  Scotland  where  the  ])'i.rhet  s  iw  the  bcasemeti 
and  the  chariots  .  hut  1  see  them  a',  and  w.  'k  nhnost  Hut:" 
Th.  11  with  a  smile  of  peace  she  closed  her  <  ves  to  open  no 
no  more  on  earth. 

©H  !  the  honnie  hills  (.'  ^C(ltlaIid  '. 
Shall  1  ever  see  them  inair, 
Stanilinc  at  the  gates  o'  sunset, 

I'nrple  in  the  golden  air'? 
Hasten lOh  ye  white  wings,  hasten! 
(ilide  the  widening  waters  o  erl 


i>lffp  'Skfiia  ©f  ^f 


;r 


97 


iw..„iasHcn,«i,iiis.,'.scotiaiia, 

Trrad  my  aiii,  my  native  sli„re. 

Oil,  the  bojinie  hills  o'Scctland' 

There  I  waiid-ied  when  a  cliild 
Mid  the  glens  witnmhiin-  hnrnies, 
An'  the  lieather  hloomin'  wild: 
N>".  my  lieart  is  faint  and  droopin'. 
_  An'  tliis  hosoni  sair  wi'  pain  ; 
Vet,  the  b()nnie  liiils  .,'  Scotland, 
I  wad  look  on  them  agnin  : 

Oil,  y«  hills!  ye  hills  o-.Sctland: 

I  liae  lo'ed  ye,  greetin'  sair  ! 
N()()  I  see  ye  in  the  sunset. 

Ye  are  bonnie— ye  are  fair  ! 
Ha  ! — -the  horsemen  o'  the  Prophet, 

An'  the  chariots  1  see  ,' 
O,  ye  holy  hills  of  Heaven, 

Ye  are  fairer  still,  to  me! 

liKLLK   liORXE  DKOOK 

SILLKIiV,    giEBRC. 

Q)ANClESinnumerons  hover  round  thy  name 

^  Ihou  s,  ver  thread  of  mnsic  wimingdown 

To  k.ss  the  haunted  waves  t],at  lisp  of  fame 

Lapping  gray  crags  by  a  Canadian  towrf' 

Throned  on  a  fortress-rock  high  in  the  North. 

Long-wlnle  the  seat  of  (iailia  s  sons  „f  war  • 

Krorn  whose  worn  wallsof  old  Chan.plain  look  d 

forth, 

Where  Wolfe,  expiring,  deathless  Iionorbore. 


1 


Si 


98 


What  proud-lit  eyes  survey  the  s|laciou^  scene, 
And  trace  St  Chai  lesali.uK  liis  verdant  shore. 

Cheered  by   his  gluw,  and  Sillerys  !;ii.vts  "f 
green, 
Wlicre,  hid  iu  woods,  tliou  sportest  evermore'. 

What  fairy  presence  dwells  apart  witli  tliee, 
<)   Helle   Home  Streamlet  :     listening  to  thy 
voice  ? 

Mingling  tliy  ripples  so  melodiously, 
It  seems  thou  hast  a  soul  (ial  can  rejoice  I 

Impregned  witli  snreets  from  Howery  meadows 
won, 
Or  woodsy  odor,  where  the  grove  is  liigli, 
Thou  court'st  the  Mayflower's  sliade,  or  in  the 
sun, 
(Jlancestat  trillium  or  blue  violet,  nigh. 

Oft,  with  continuou-  laiigliier  tlicm  d<isl  lun 
In  mimic  cascades  down  each  stony  siair  ; 

Flinging  tliy  crystal  joy  to  air  and  sun. 
Changing  ti>  gladness  wliatsoe'er  is  fair. 

Tlinu  sing'st  aloud  to  Heauvi.ir,  gay  demesne. 
In  innocent  mockery  of  the  :norning  l)irds; 

By  Spencer  Grange  winds  on  thy  creeping  sheen 
Fond  as  the  feeding  flocks  or  dreaming  herds. 

So  clear  thou  sing'st  when  Sage  and  Poet  meet, 
Thy  bickering  beauties  they  must  cfime  to 
trace  ; 

While  many  a  legend  shall  their  (iuide  repeat. 
The  lov'd  Historian  of  tliat  sylvan  place.* 

*   Sir  jamf^  Mnf-phprson  I.t;  Movnt'.  nf  Spincer  (;iani!<\ 
the  ^eni:il  iloyen  unii  chronicler  of  t^uthfi, 


ite  MuM  m  ©l|ip  Cir023.      99 


Uitli  tlifi.  til."  vesper  cliiire  Is  Ii.ani  afar  ; 
Willi    the   soft  Angi'liis    thou    dost  tinklins 
glide  ;  " 

While  the  sun  lights  tliee,  or  the  evening  star, 
And  pale  Konianee  sits  hovering  hy  thy  side! 

Some  g-Mitle  nun  lias  found  thee  her  lovMhoiirn; 

Here  fond  enanior'd  lovers  wont  tip  stray  ; 
Here  the  quaint  scli"largreets  the  dewy  morn, 

Sprinkling  from  Helicon  the  infant  day. 
No  w  newly  hath  the  Spring  ( hy  sprite  released, 

Loosed  from  dumb  frost  thy  gleesome  wave 
wins  free; 
The  festival  of  song,  the  flowery  feast, 

And  the  long  sunshine,  bring  thy  jubilee. 

The  lofty-swinging  pines  their  nursling  greet; 
Replenished,  the  green  maples  thee  espouse; 
The   household    robin  and  the  brown  thrush 
sweet 

Make  thee  their  answer  from  the  whispering 
boughs. 

Perhaps,  at  Marchmont,  from  some  hasty  brink 
Thou'lt  take  the  swallow's  kiss,  wild-answer- 
ing 

The  tipsy  tumbler,  saucy  Bobolink,— 
Leaving  that  wanton  trifler  on  the  wing. 

With  gay  caprice  the  golden  butterfly 
Shall  flicker  o'er  where  thy  pure  eye  may  see; 

The  insect-dragon  dart  tliy  pools  a-nigh. 
And  near  thy  shallows  drone  the  burnie-bee. 


<«. 


100 


ClJf  E^f  '^mm. 


What  tones  may  ri-aoli  tliee  tliroiit-li  tliy  ({iiani- 
iaii  trevH, 
Where  them  thy  mystic  converse  hipUlest  all. 

From  the  ruile  ulangoroiis  world  home  on  the 

hreeze  V 
-Or  (lost  tlioii  liear  men's  voices  when  tliey  call'.' 

Thetliun(rroiiscity,iliave(l  from  mornto  uijjht 
Wliere  clamorous  throngs  till  all  the  wallcs  of 
trade; 
The  eclioing  jjun,  from  Stadaci>na  s  height,-- 
Say,   can  they  pierce    thy  calm,  contiguous 
shade  '■* 

Nay,  for  however  Man  may  drudge  and  groan. 
Lilte  somestrongSpirit  where  Time  holdsno 
sway, 
A  thing  of  joy  and  liglit,  content,  alone, 
Unstained,  thou    lioldest  youtli's  perpetual 
way. 

And  by  thy  side  tlie  wight  of  weariness 
May  find  the  unity  of  tranquil  tliought, — 

May  breathe  the  healing  of  thy  wave,  and  bless 
The  harmonizing  spell  by  Nature  wrought. 

Not  missionlBSs,througli  Sillery's green  domain 
O  IJtflle  Borne  Urook  !  thou  wanderest,  wild 
and  free  ; 

To  gentle  hearts  with  sylvan  dreams  again 
Thou  comest,  and  their  singing  is  of  thee! 

SONG. 
^^HERE  was  a  lass  I  chanced  to  meet,— 
Mi     A  lass  so  modest  and  so  rare, 
^■^She  did  not  know  her  voice  was  sweet. 
She  did  not  know  her  face  was  fair  ; 


W!<^f  MirhB  ®f  Ulff  larsaa.    101 

lliit,  all,  tliPl.,aiityof  luTininii  : 

'f  was  a  gift  l.p.v.,n,)  <„„,,,ar..  ; 
n.'r  ryes  Wf  re  „f  tlie  lieavwily  kind. 

Ami  l„v.-  al.,ne  eiigaKed  lier  care.  " 
■I'li.Te  was  a  lass  I  <lia„ce,|  t.,  meet  - 

II.r  music  met  tl,es.,tT.-.ers,„„a,',  ■ 
To  deeds  <if  mercy  tiew  lier  feet, 

K(,r  needy  SI, Ills  she  lived  alone 
Ali:  Heaven  has  pity  :   Heaven  is  meet 

K.>r  such  as  she,-.aml  she  is  there  ' 

Sli«  did  not  kn„w  her  voice  was  sweet 

Slu-  did  n.,t  know  her  face  was  fair. 

TIIK  UNIiKCUUMZEi,  I'OKT. 
'?^y//.V  /,  „ot  S.,n,j,  the  lastingSilence  saith  ■ 
{^     No  l.eart^is^muved,  n„  mind  convinced  of 

In  this  wide 'world  of  loveliness  no  part 
Hast  thou  to  show  the  fruitand  power  of  Faith 
O,  world-scorned   Dreamer  :   haunted   by   the 
wraith  •'        " 

Of  Hope  that  never  may  to  Deed  mature 

No  firm  r-sp.,nse  shall  e-er  thy  heartassure 
Kre  thou  go  out  and  down  to  Lethean  Death. 

Why  longer  with  tlie  .)/a/.r  r«,  then,  appear  ? 
Art  is  tor,  high,  too  subtle  Song,  for  tliee  • 
The  public  favor  is  a  bird  too  shy  ' 

Nor  even  the  Critic  wortl  y  of  his  sneer 

Now  deems  thee Ah  !  indeed,  this   well 

may  be  ! 
Yet  hearts  must  hope  and  dream,  or  else 
they  die. 


102    $5|f  ItrJiB  0f  '^I^r  Canaaa. 


ONK    MOKE. 

NK  niipfH  carrss,  darling,  Ixfoii'  wf  |i«ft  ; 
Mine  eyes  (lisoprii  wttar  tlie  silent »'  ore  ; 
SiKin  liie  t'uMi  It  jiress  no  longer  to  tliine 
heart. 

My  voice  sli»lt  hear  no  more. 

'■Oil.  love,  so  Ions?  as  love  to  tliee  remains  I"' 

Together  once  we  rtail  that  tender  lay ; 
Yet  never  seemed  that  bli-s  which  never  wanes 
So  sacred  as  to-day. 

Ah,  love  me  but  the  more  that  I  must  go 

From  tliine  enfolding  amis  !    Tis  love  I  prize; 
Fori  would  taste  its  sweetness  liere.  then  km  w 
Its  rrpture  in  the  skies. 

.Mind  not  the  lonely  pillow  thou  must  press, 

Think  not  of  solitude,  with  many  a  tear  ; 
In  nights  of  gloom,  with  wakeful  tenderness. 
Shall  I  not  still  be  near? 

Yea,  I  shall  come,  if  any  way  may  be  ! 

Thy  love— the  dearest  treasure  I  possess— 

Thinkest  thou  that,  wlien  I  am  reft  from  thee, 

I  can  esteem  it  less  ? 

Thouart  mine  own  ;  of  thy  possession  sure. 
Here,  none  could  ever  win  my  heart  away  ; 
In  yon  unchanging  world  I.ove  dwells  secure ;- 
There  may  we  live  for  aye. 

One  more  caress,  darling,  before  we  part  ! 

Mine  eyes  discern  not  far  the  silent  shore: 
Love  me'  for  soon  thou'lt  press  me  to  thy  heart. 
Soon  hear  my  voice,  no  more. 


'<£lw  ■iiixhB  m  &^e  CEraaa.    103 


.I'llin   Ml  I'h. 


M<rilKliSOX-.s    K.MRK.ATV 


.  ill  thi' 


"I  tlij' 


iin.  u  pnil  ^iiill  -ilii 
Iv  p.irt  .1    ihi'  la~l 


t'o'iliirv. 


'  lilt- 


Mlhjpct 


ili'clll 


1111(1  I 


mil  h' 


ilii»>r:ihlf  iilrtnil-lii'il  hi 


fi    II    hv  the  >lriirfr.     Ilu\  jii 
nKiiiilhiv.Ti,i„f  ,l,.,,jliilii, 


'Iv  uiib.ikiri.  1  il. 
biiKil  . 


lul  iliiriii^  : 


>i~i',  hi'  hi 


"m-  lllii.  ii;;  hii   |ilii;iU 


111     Ih'.l 


Il    I 


illltf    tl-||l|.l(i;ir 

11^  liiaili)t'>v  he 


iiiill  hi-  f,„|,, 


'  IMlhilii-  .,|,|.<.:i| 


I«:t  II    lii.clRul   i|i|,ti,-,   ,v|,„h 


~|iiril  ,,f  |„-iii. 


O,  siirciv  thill,  wilt  „„t  ilcl.-iv. 


\Vh 

hi 


iil>-  [  >h;ill  li-1, 


II  VI 


Oil 


lit  lh\ 


ivfu  oni,  who  wilt  rli 


I'lir  thy  fiHI 
sttt>  to  jrri'i 


Vil'  itiiikf  rt'iiicml'LTiil  : 
Aii.l  liahliii  fviTv  v.in 


hi'iT  iiiv  hiiini-.— 


I-  C.I  till-,  in  : 


toalwn.l,,,,  hi,,,  ;  ,h, 
niiiiiittil  iiiul  the  h 


-Mtr  11,  his  lall.d.r  Khc  hail  i 


.1  hiuC 


iHir'od  his  Ji> 


etiMifil. 


'"BCr  se|iarutiiMi  that  i 


ft 


II!  .Mi:!,'r  wes 


sever,  dearf  St,  fd.^.r., 
After  tlie  years  we  togetlier  liave  know 
I,  wlio  would  bless  tl 


tllL     . 

t-'ry,— Wilt  tlioii  leav 


lee,  ciasiiaiid  caress 


•e  nie  to  laiiptiisli  alciic! 


id  weave 


Ne'er  would  I  i»rieve  thee,— I,  who  d 
thee 
Passionate  songs,  ere  niv  ha 


.  -_ rp  was  outworn: 
Sunken,  sad-hearted,  hoi)e  long  departed,— 

Ah,  htit  t/ioii  knowest  ho  ,v  deeply  I  mourn  ! 
Once  I  asjiired,  dared  and  desired  ; 

Latireis  for  singing  to  win  tliee  I  tried: 


A: 


104    Wm  '^dkM  ©f  Wm  (Sroaa. 


Fancy,  bnjjlit  nivm  !  tliv  tcnui  (inani  is  hut  ; 
8i<rr<>w  and  solitude  liiinible  my  {niiii'. 

My  faint  fingers  tire  and  fail  from  tlie  Is  re; 

.Spent,  its  wild  music  and  innocent  glee  : 
Vet  cf)me  the  years,  Itringin^  laureis  tor  sing- 
ing,— 

llAKi'  OF  Acadia  !— ami  honors  for  thee. 

Fallen  this  gloom  in,  tlioii  canst  illumine 
My  horror  of  darkness,  and  succor  riy  woe: 

Come  !  and  dream  over  days  when  thy  Uiver 
Sang  in  the  sunsliine  of  love,  long  ago. 

Ah  1    can  I  move  thee,  —  /,  who  still  love  thee? 

Flutters  with  hope  my  now  penitent  breast '. 
Canst  thou  not  see,  love,  my  heart  beats  for 
tiiee,  love  ? 

Deem  me  not  cold,  wife,  bntso'ely  oistrest! 

Now  my  wild  yearning  for  thy  returning 
1  breathe  tlirocgli  my   harp, — Oh,  vouclisafe 
me  reply  1 

Then,  if  thou  hearest, — sweetest  and  dearestl 
(ilad  in  thine  arms  let  nie  hasten  to  die  '. 

CUUX. 

*^KAK,  <)  my  br.>thersl  hear  that  cry  (jf  woe 
K®J     Which   deepens  ever  on  the    Soutliern 

(  breeze  ! 

Stilt  (.'uba  wei-ps.  aiul  still  th*'  coral  seas 
Kedden  and  sigh  to  feel  lier  ov"rthrow  : 
Terne's*  and  Armenia's  do<»nt  they  know. 

On  wh   se  starved  lips  our  bread  i.s  sweet  : 
but  wine 

•     Ireliui.l. 


5^  ^'^^^^  ®f  Uiii  dxsBB,    105 

And  manna  t->  the  sinil^  fl.ot    . 

Crue    „,spa,.aMV„attl,o-,o..„s„-;;^      H  • 

'..r  Island  .-lister,  thou  on  ns  dost  f,Jn  • 
ietoanCo„„„hiatn,nh„e,.e.awav        ■ 
And,  thv  .apacions  pleasure  to  f„iu, 

HOOD. 

^A.e  e.e.n.o.e  eVh^'S  a^r,,;^"-"'^''' 
The  mornmg-memories  of  the  world 
Ah,  gentle-bosomed  Hard  !  he  knew 

Two  angels  met  to  bless  his  birth  - 
To  scatter  flowers,  to  sprinkle  dew  1 
And  one  was  .Musi,,  one  was  51  i,,h 
Now  P„ek,  now  Ariel,  breathed  i.is  strain 

And  by  the  streaming  fount  «;  Tears 

5^et  not  the  gleeful  sprites  of  yo;e 
The  greenwood  and  the  mould'ring  hall 

Are  qu.ck  with  many  an  eerie  tone 
We  answer  to  his  pensive  can 

Who  speaks^tl.  things  our  Warts  have 


106    iilfi?  Itriia  ®f  ^f??  '3 


How    (jiiick.   Iiow   warm,   liis  pulse  wuukl 
beat, 

Wlien  I'itv  stirred  liis  genial  lire  1 
liovv  would  his  plead'u^  pen  entreat, 

When  wrong  evoke<i  his  tearful  irv  I 

And  hear  iiim  breathe  a  woman's  sigh  ! 

Ah,  Magdalen  1  did  bard  d(  plore 
Tlie  fallen  fair  so  piteously. 

With  sucli  sweet  ehxpience,  before  ! 

While  morn  revisits  Ids  lov'd  hills. 
And  lights  his  uottage  cliand)er  nook  ; 

While  pensive  Autumn  overfills 
Our  hearts,  as  rain  tlie  meadow  brook  ; 

VVhile  misery  dotli  compiassion  move. 
While  beats  the  tender  heart  and  good. 

Be  blessing  on  the  Bard  we  love, — 
The  gentle  shade  of  Tlionias  Ihiod  '. 


BURNS. 
TTlgXHEN  he  was  born  the  ^^uses  all  were 

\Xj         wild 

W'ith  joy,  this  prodigy  of  Song  to  see  : 
Art,  smiling  said,    "  He  is  my  darling  child  I  " 
"O,  no,  "■  cried  Nature,  "He  belongs  to  m«:" 


liiiriiii,! 


107 


^ 


^ 


T"K  THRII.SH 

""■■bn.M.ke  carol,  when  she  Sings' 

At  last  the  vtsper  ThrnsI,  is  still  ■ 
Another  chan.ernow  is  there- 
"ark!   AW/ ,'..., 7,-,.       ^,  , 

•'T  f"'y'<'«i.er  voice  outrinT' 

'Ierh,r,i-I,ke  carol,  when  she  sings: 
THE  DOVES. 

"l:  FHIONCil    OKGAtTIKH. 


KliO 


?.^;^t!,i;'Z.i'i;:jr"'""— '.ade. 

With  shaft  erect   T,l  ^'f "'  "*'  "'a-'f  • 
n  stands,  lr;'kr„^;'f,^,f'-,Piu„.e, 

When  Kvening  Cometh,  presently 

Sr 'I'll' ''""'"  ""■"°^«^^i""y^ 

Through  the^warn,  night 'tis  theirsweet 

ThBy  cluster  close  ami  nestle  there. 


108    ilfi?  WiuM  ®f  ifflliff  C«!0a. 

Then,  fluttering  out  at  morning-tide, 
Lil<e  a  wliite  necklace  scattering  wide 
Its  loosen'd  pearls,  they  mount  on  high. 
And  vanish,  lost  in  the  deep  sky. 

My  Soul  is  like  that  green  palm  tree: 
Such  dove-like  fancies  cnnie  to  me  ; 
They  fall  from  Heaven  at  close  of  day, 
But  tly  witli  morn's  first  beam  away. 


VICTORIA. 

He  set  the  royal  crown  upon  her  head  and  made  her  queen. 

KsTilEH,  2:17. 

»OD  made  her  Queen:    In  a  long  line  she 
came, — 
Such  as  had  known  the  splendor  of  a 
throne  ; 

And  England's  realm  was  early  named  her  own. 
While  the  world  uttered  her  auspicious  name. 
Tetdid(iod  make  her  Queen  :  II  is  sacred  flame 
Inspired  with  purest  love  her  virgin  heart ; 
Yea,  wisdom  to  her  clioice  did  He  impart. 
And  honor,  never  to  be  turned  to  shame. 
The  Isles  looked  up  to  her  ;  she  was  enthroned 
In  all  affections  ;  virtue  to  her  reign 
Gave  added  lustre  ;  her  sweet  face,  ser"ne, 
Chief  (it  all  womankind,  her  people  owned  ; 
Kings,  poets,  did  her  reverence.     Not  in  vain, 
God,  and  a  loyal  Nation,  made  her  Queen  ! 


®^^  ^w^  m  1%  ©raaa.    109 

THE  GRAVE  WITHIN  MY  HEART^  ^ 

''"attft:;;;:3:;;:^;;^;--^;-';.;<^. Wished  i, „p,„ 

'•'K  "I  her  hush  ,,„d'»  Lh!„    .  ,     '  '  "'"*^™''''  Tl-e  I'urn 

the  Inw.w;„cr  „mrk  th-.t  the  ,, ,  *^^''"'*'°  '""'  '^'■•'«.  »o  hc-ar 
grave,  a,„,  .„  „r,„ec      he      ';"■""""'  '"''^  ""«"'  ™ver  her 

^ept  h„„  f,.„,„  despa-r^fden-dded  h"" '■■"'' '•''''^  =""- 
hr.n.e;  but  he  ,„ve  e„,e  "d  /  ^  "  "'"''*  '''■^  "'^V 
h.-s  lite  had  fa„e„.  '^  ''  '"""  ""  ^''^"'''^v  i„,„  ,,hi,h 

O*"?  in  my  bleeding  heart. 
It  lies  within  my  heart 

""•""""■'i::  rat""" '"»-""« «"o' 


110 


if  ®&I?  i^XBBB, 


Yet  Memory  steeps  with  peiiitciitial  dew 

That  grave  witliiii  my  heart. 

Oil,  Wife  I  thy  dying  moan  ihvells  in  my  eai  1 
Oh,  Wife  1  thy  perished  face  in  dread,  so  drear. 
'Neath  those  rude  sands  on  I'atagoiMa  s  t.li<  rel 
Beside  that  grave  I  linger  evermore, 

For  it  is  in  my  heart. 

Faint  hope,  weak  will,— would  i/c  were  buried 

there  ! 
Reproach  of  self,  and  sadness,  and  ile.^i  air  1 
The  good,  the  fair,  lie  buried  deep  below  ; 
— Ah  1  would  that  something  green  might  on  it 

grow,— 

Thatgrave within  my  heart! 

All  things  1  hear,  and  all  1  feel  and  see. 
Are  mingled  with  that  dreadful  raemcjry  ; 
That  dismal  Sea  leaps  in  my  dreams  apace  ; 
My  burning  ship  llames  weird — 1  see  //.  y  face. 
Her  grave — iriihin  iiiii 
liidrl  .' 

In  vain  I  cry, — .silence  and  nigiit  succcd  ; 
I  chafe  these  bonds,  this  heart  must  inly  bleed; 
There  is  no  answer  but  the  wind;;  that  rave  ; 
There  is  no  resurrection  Irom  il^nf  grave, — 

The  (!!■■    rr  irilhiii  )iiil  liccirt! 

THE  KPITATU    OF  KE.\TS. 

TWv.^JS    his  N'AMK    wp.iT  IX   WATKit?     Time 
\KJ        has  shown 

Tliat  a  vain  epitaph,  and  withoMt  <;anse: 
Xow  let  o[\e  come  to  write  upon  the  stone, — 

.■^I.AS  !  ME5,   DYINd,  SADLY  I>KKSiT;D  IT  WAS  1 


I'l"--^ .Il 

""u  his  ■ 


•''ins   ALSO   [^   V A. VI TV. 


"  '"  .11  Mi,nv 


\(S)M.VLYr^.ststl,e  W„rl.H.     i 

Tliis,  ()  Hr„„„  .        ''^''■ 
Hell  ,1„  y„„  know  ■ 

ilnstoy„„isoi,vi„us,  Ovi.l 

'fani.sl,.,|  t„  the  Thracian  wil.l  . 

"""«..,,.«,  w,H.„  y..„r,„ar,. as,  o'ved 

tor  the  love  of  wife  ami  child 
l"--s  you  did  too  keeniv  feel 
f  risoner  of  thj,   ijastiile  •        ' 

TM;^  fun  plainly  y..„ 

I'alilei  Galileo  :  ■'        '      . 

•jreat  Tyrannns  Pontifex  ■ 
Why  will  yo,.  t,,.  „3j.  „,^  ^^^  „ 
yiiisitore  Clerious, 

"''""'""  .'/n>ral./,- of,,,/ 
Sayeth  Hug,,  : 
Still  will  you  go 

O/'t..  rack  and  to  imprison  us,- 
That  old  cruel,  foolish  business;' 
"''  y<>"  .cize  us,  proscribe,  libel 


112    ®Iff  Iwdia  ®f  ilji?  (imm. 


Cleave  oiir  bones,  and  burn  oiir  Bible  ? 
In  tlie  name  nf  Ilim  above  us  I 

(  .Manes  of  Latimer  and  (juyon  '.  ) 
Do  you  hate  us  ?  do  you  love  us  ? 
Torqueniada— bitter  shrew 
Of  the  rack,  the  torch,  the  screw, — 
W/iiit  is  it  yiiii  profxiff  ti>  <l» 
With  the  Eafile  and  thr  /Aon  f 

Vainly  rests  the  World  its  hopes 
On  your  scaffolds,  racks,  and  ropes  1 
They're  no  use, — 
Are  they,  Huss  ? 
What  have  the//  done  ? — I  would  ask  all, — 
Campanella— Colon — Pascal  ? 

Mitred  Dullness  !  can  you  tell hey  ? 

What  fool's  whip  once  scourged  Prinelli? 
Can  ye  persuade  the  World  that  ye 
Are  Arbiters  of  Destiny, 
And  Masters  of  Eternity  ? 

May  not  such  as  well  be  spared 

Wyolifte,— Tyndale,— Bonnivard  ? 
Nay,  but  scaffolds,  racks,  and  scourges. 
Multiply  Faith's  Boanerges  ! 
Nay.  but  Truth  flames  broader,  higher. 
Borne  aloft  on  wings  of  fire  ! 

Stake  or  stone  do  make  it  free,  O, 
Galilei  Galileo  ! 


^B  m  '^^s  Croaa.    113 


*Vlli;.\    liocTolt  I.UTIIKU  CAMK. 


-■I"   l.iilln 


•'is  .1  w.inilrnu-.  - 
fir'nmnn;.      I', 


""d,'.a'th.''''""'   ''""    "P""   "'•'   ''*■'!  "f 
Tlu.  Kri.nd  i.^  ,.„,.«:  h,.w  .till   t.,e  sick   n,a„ 

Witl,     what    l,lan*.d   faco.   ami    witi,   what 
siiiiken  eyes.  "' 

''I-et.near,M,seI,im.'-     For  a  little  space 
Melanol.th,,,,  pazes  into  LMtlier's  face. 

"Ah!  L„ther,  i.s  it  you?^But  let  n,e  cea.^e 
Prom  this  Wo,l  Is  anguish,  to  depart  in  peace." 
"We  cannot  spare  you,  Philip,  ••  eagerly 
Luther  repli«s,-"We  cannot  let  you  die!" 
Then  LutJ^r^fcneels:  faith   bears   triun.phant 
.Meanwhile  he  prays,  as  he  knows  how  to  pray. 
During   the   space  of  half  an   hour   they   hear 
Strong  cries  out-poured  in  the  Eternal  Kar. 
Then  to  the  bed,  as  one  who  would  command 
He  goes,  and  takes  his  comrade  by  the  liand. ' 
Melanchthon  sighs:     "Ah,  Luther.let  me  go'" 
But,  "No!"  cries  Luther;    "No!  Melanchthon 
.No!  ' 


I 


114    llIEjf  WilxM  ®l  yJtfi?  (ntmB. 

"  D«atli  iiiiist  yielil  tr)i>iir  nri'd, — ««  cannot  let 
Vol!  nt  to-ilay, — wn  oaiiiiot  spiic  yon  ynt  :  ' 

T.'ifiisavs  tlie  Dcictur  :  "lie  liatlit-aten  iimnflit: 
Bring liini some brutli"  riii-  nurtiiiinmliaiitllit 
is  l>roii(!lit. 

"Take  tliis,  Mrilanolitlioii.— '////i/,'  il  .' "  I.utli- 

er  cries, 
And  strives  to  help  the  sick  man  to  arise. 

"  It  is  in  vain  !  "  so  (iotli  Melanolithon  sigh  : 
■'  HIess  nie,  dear  Lntlier,  and  then  let  me  die  V 

"Tiior  siiAl/r  NOT  DiK  1"    cries  Lntlier,  stern 
as  fate  ; 

"  Dri  III.- this  ;  orfliiiiidi-ir.rfurinniiiiiriili  .'" 

Melanclitlion    drinks     a    lonjr,  deep  dranglit  ; 

revives, 
Kises,  and  througli  laborious  years,  survives. 

So  Death  retires,   who  bears  but  partial  sway; 
While  God,  and  Life,  and  Luther,  win  tlie  day. 


KACA. 

*'ris  c:i«v  to  ciy  "H;icii."— John  Hkake. 

For  out:  hypocrite  wlin  is  di'cked  with  tliL-  Ihuhii  s  of 
virtue,  thi-re  are  IWLiity  jfood  men  wlio  siitTer  t  ht  iL:rin. 
ininy  ot'vii-e;  so  wlU  disposed  art- individuals  to  trample 
upon  thf  fame  r)ftlieirl'elln\v -creatures. 

fTS  ET  not  your  outcry  be  too  long  or  loud, 
\^ Ye    Levite-Guardians   of   Truths     sacred 

shrine. 
If  some   with  garments  soiled   pres.s   in   the 

crowd. 


^hs  -MAa  ®f  ilqe  filroaa.    115 

If  tlr-iv  i,r..  sp.ts  v»!,..,v  l>,.,„„s  w.Me  n».aiit  t,. 
.sliiiif: 

Divine, 
Wl,,.,,  tl„nwitli  ini.iKlc.s  |',i,|,.-,s    ,„„st    siil.tle 

li'avi'ii  : 
\V«r,„w.,„.l  is  ,nix,-,i  will,  »acran».„tal  wine 
ATiJ«l.illi..va,iestl„.s.,ft.stairs  of  Heaven 
Uewl,„,,.t  rrall.an,l.)„sti„..  intlieeartl, 
<.ave  Meroy,  t.M,,  an.l  (  liarity,  i„  „,an- 
Ilave  car...  „„r,.,.tintf  Krn.r's  n..,nMr.M.s  l.irti, 
\en„t.list.irl,  tl,e(.at,l,.ns   sa.-red  plan 

<|ird  V  that  False!. I  ll..n.,.  .  ^arlaml  „earsV 

^Veep  „  ,.,   the  Jnst  wl.,.,  crn.she.l  and  sc.rned 
aes|iair>  : 

Tin:   M.Vk'IM;  OF  MUX, 

.\l:-.n,-,  viliil,   ,',ln,.,i,,„     „     ■.    ■"    ^■•'>"■-;■^.    ■•l    Or,..,,., 

.icr,t„„<h„,i,„.,,r,r,„Ui.ii.,":  ,';;:  '""'-•  "''^""■ 

quentlv  .i"Jv:Mu'da,,,la,,|'l',,,;i,:;r.  ,'''''''"■   "'■^'   -"'-'■ 

Thl-    h.M     |„)il|Cill    ll01,,,niV     1.   Tlu-    ,-,r T. 

A   perf.et    n,anl,o,„l   is   better  than   any 
wealth  (ir  wage. 
V,mo  are  f„r  gold,  s.,n.e,  ^litter,-  but  tell    n,e, 

till  me,  wlien 
Will  we  stand    for  the   Farm  and  the  College 
that  gn  to  tl  e  making  of  Men?  ' 


im 


116    l(,t<s  'Bixhn  ®f  W^t  CwBB. 


Ves,  wliat  is  tlio  old   Kami  fit  for  V   TIm<  wonl 

was  wisfly  said: 
There  may  l)f  stiinips  in  tlie  pasture,   ami    the 

iiduse  may  lie  a  shed  ; 
Yet  what  if  a  Lincoln  or  (iarlleld   be   lieie,  in 

this  Ixiy  <>f  ten  '.' 
And  wliat  should  the  Farm  lie  fit  for,  if  not  for 

the  rearing  of  Men  '.' 

'Tis  a  scanty  soil  for  the  seeding;  yet    licre  we 

win  our  bread, 
And  a  stout  lieart  may    grow    stnmger    where 

plough  and  harrow  are  speil; 
Then    break   up  the  higli,  bleak  liillside,  and 

trench  the  swamp  and  fen;  — 
For  what  should  the  Farm  be  lit  f'.r,  ''  -lot  the 

rearing  of  Men  ;' 
The   crop  by  the  frost  is    bliglited— a   niggard 

the  season  seems; 
Yet    the   ready    liand   tinds   duties,   and   tlie 

youthful  heart  has  dreams: 
The  Bar  i>r  the  Senate  to-morrow— to-morrow 

the   I'ulpit  or  Pen; 
For  what  is  the  Farm  best  fitted,   if  not  the 
rearing  of  Men  ? 

Or,  what  if  our  lot  be  humble,  and   we  on    the 

Farm  abide '.' 
There  is  room  for  noble  living,  and  the    realm 

of  thought  is  wide: 
The  sword  outllaslied  in  tlie  battle  hath  lionor 

we  all  iiiav  ken  ; 


f  ^ix^B  (3{  lib,t  iZxsBz.    117 


it'.'h"*  ^' 


Hut  iji  tl,Hr,.  „„  praise  »,„|  no  glory  to  .'o  with 

Is  "iir  lif,.all  in  gold  an<l  silver,  in  claim.r  an<l 

splendor  and  pride-.' 
Is  the  Means  rich  treasure   notliing,   and    the 

Mind's  liijth  guerdon,  l)eslde'.' 
In  the  mine  of  tlie  Soiii    lies  our  fortune,   -  let 

UN  quarry  it  deep  aijain; 
Let   US    stand  for  the   Kami  and   the  ('ollege, 

that  go  to  the  making  of  Men! 

Wetread   the   hills   that  the  Holy,    that  the 

Keautiful  hatli  trod  ; 
Wo  till  the  (lelds  of  tliB  Inlluite,  we  dress    the 

gardens  of (iod: 
Tlie  .Seer,  the  Sage,  and  tlie  I'oet,  they  choose 

it  again  ami  a^ain  — 
For  what  is  the  old    Kami    fit   for.    if  not  the 

rearing  of  Men? 

THK    LO.NKM'    PINK 

f^KMOTK.  upon  the  sunset-shrine 
IV     •"  a  green  hill,  a  lonely  I'ine 

v.     Heckons  this  hungry  lieart  of  mine. 

••  Draw  near,"  it  always  seems  to  say, 
l-ook  thither  whensoe'cr  I  may, 
From  the  dull  routine  of  my  way  :— 

"  I  h(dd  for  tlu'B  tlie  heavens  In  trust ; 
My  priestly  branches  toward  tlieeUirust, 
Absolve  thy  fret,  assoil  tliy  dust.' 


118    g'?e  'uimiB  ©f  ®&i?  HtmB. 


Y«t  wlii'ii  I  coiiif  it  lii-eds  not  me  : 
Tlie  stars  amid  tlie  Ijraiiclifs  see 
Hilt  Iniiuly  man,  :ind  lonely  tree  ; — 

And  lonely  Kartli,  tliat  holds  in  tlirall 
Her  children  :  while  Kve  gathers  all 
To  f(dd,  within  her  sliadowy  wall. 

In  starry  senate  doth  arise 
Yon  luniined  Spirit  of  the  skies, 
Walking  with  radiant  ministries. 

But,  sighing  from  its  kindred  wood 
After  its  green-robed  brotherhot.d. 
The  I'ine  tree  feeds  my  wonted   mood. 

For,  '.vitli  its  spell  around   me  thrown. 
Dreaming  of  social  pleasures  Uown. 
I  grieve,  yet  joy  to  be  alone. 

Yet  in  my  lonely  I'ine  there  dwells, 
When 'mid  its  breast  the  soft  wind  swells, 
A  prophet  of  swe<'t  oracles. 

Like  a  faint  sea  on  far-olT  slu  re. 
With  its  low-mutHed,  elfin  roar, 
It  speaks  one  language  evermore  : — 

One  language,  unconstrained  and  free, 
The  converse  of  tl'e  answering  Sea, 
The  old  rune  of  Kternity. 

Its  freshening  u)usie,  breatheth  sooth 
The  uucorrupted  dream  of  youth, 
Restoreth  Love,  unveiktli  Truth. 


liri?  ItrSa  ®f  ffep  ({: 


^x-^ZB,     119 


It    |*.iketli  ciia-  felicity 
"t.!u;o^  More  in  Certainty. 

So   stronjjer,  from  tins  green  tnllshrine 
I  turn  t.,  cares  and  tasks  of  mine 
Ami  srateful.  bless  my  l.eahnKlMne. 
i'O  THK  SUX. 
/^    EVKK-.IOVOL-S  Spirit  of  Delight  • 

W.tl.dower^oUtarsandllowerstogiWthy 

A  Jd  al'I  H  "'' """""'"''  '^''S^^"««  ">  "'«  Plain 
And  all  tlie  mountain  tops  for  thee  are  bricht 

Stream-|„o.ener:  shedding  livingorvstal  w  f 

More  blithe  for  thee  the  iLpid  Ll'k  l"  s^W 

K,ch,„  diffusion,  thou  dost  still  bestow 
Thy  light,  as  hearts  give  love      a  f  r.„ 
-_\to,io  ~i     •  *    *""*^®-— a  treasure  rare- 

ROOT  AND  BLOSSOM 


-j}; 


120    a^e  mtM  ©f  Uifs  €^120. 


MY    IIOl'K   IS  IN   TIIKK.  " 


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F   IV 

10  K    !• 

EMX 

THOU  oracular  Deliilii  '.  spfakii.j,'  clear. 
With  thy  mysterious,  secret,  .sil>yl-toii(riie: 
How  i-rni  irr   know  orusKi.vKs '?     When 
we  are  young, 
Oiir  eyes  are  dazzled  ;  old,  our  eyes  are  iilear. 
Wliat'(N  that  inward  Si.i.K,  of  wliich  we  hear  ■.' 
Inconstant  as  the  wind,  orhoarv  main. 
It  seems  not  .«/»///('.- nay,  nor  even  twain, 
But  Mtl.TIiTEX,  in  its  uncertain  spliere. 
How  diHic:!  -  self-knowledge,  self-contrtd  1 
Flun;;,  like  an  atom  to  the  whirlinc  wind. 
Or  like  a  chip  to  tlie  tumultuous  sea  ; 
In  twilight-paths  of  Hope  STid  Fear,  my  Soul, 
Unfit  herself  to  know,  her  way  to  find.— 
Tliiiu  till-i-i  rrdlin;/  Lord,  /  ri\)i  lo  TIik  .' 


•*f 


THE   MESSENGEU. 

EAK  ye  my  call,  ye  sons  of  men  !  ' 
Still  doth  celestial  Wisdom  cry  : 
When  will  ye  seek  for  me.—  ah.  wlien  ! 
Nor  put  your  hetter  portion  hy  ? 

•'  Here  at  the  gates  of  (iain  and  Power, 
(iod's  Messenger,  unheard,  I  stand  : 

Repeal  my  counsel  o'er  and  o'er. 

And  sound  my  warning  thro"  the  land. 


©lie  Mlzhz  ®f  ©ffp  (Sroaa.    121 

'■IseetI.eSonsof  Pleasure  pass  • 
Tl,eMightysettl,eirtl,r,.„eso„high; 

Tlie  Mean  stoop  low  ;-|„,t  all,  alas' 
Oo  pass  tlieir  better  p.,rtion  by  : 

"  ''^"  ">«  '"-day  :    Tl.y  God  will  give 
Of  Truth  and  (irace  tlie  full  supply  - 

Mine  are  the  words  l.y  which  ye  live 
And  only  they  who  slight  then.  die. 

'Silver  and  gold  are  shining  dust 
And  gems  of  lustre  nmst  decay  ■ 

Hut  who  in  Wisdom  puts  his  trust 
Hath  that  which  cannot  fadeaway.  ' 

AN  AUTfMXAL  HYMN. 
/^UTIJMN  lms^con,e.-sweet  .Sabbath  of  the 

"/  feast  o('splendor  satiates  onr  eyes  • 
Us  saddening  n,usic.  falling  on  the  ear 
H.ds  pensive  musing  in  the^eart  arise 
Now  earlier  shadows  veil  the  sunset  skies, 
And  b"gl.t^the  stars  and  harvest  moon  do 

The  woodbine's  blood-red  leaves  the  morn 
espies  ""Jill 

Hung  from  the  dripping  elm  ;  the  yellow- 
ing  pine  ■' 

And  fading  goldenrod  denote  the  year's  decline. 
The  light  is  mellow  over  all  the  hills  • 
Silence  ,n  all  the  vales  sits  listening;' 
As  If  Earth  waited  for  her  spotless  King  • 


M'. 


',i%l' 


l'".    i 


122   ®iji?  3!ir&a  (if  ©fji?  §,xmB. 


Nor  is  there  want  of  sacred  ministering  ; 
The  laden  trees  seem  priests  all  consecrate; 
Tlie  rustling  corntields  seem  to  cliant  his 

praise  ! 
Surely  Man's  thankfulness,  "mid  his  estate 
A  gladsome  hymn  should  not  forget  to  raise 
To  Him  whose  bounteous  hand  doth  ever  crown 

our  days ! 

To  Him  be  praise  when  harvest-fields  are 
bare. 

And  all  the  sheaves  are  safely  gatliered  in; 

When  merry  threshers  vex  the  sunny  air, 

And  ri'ddy  apples  crowd  the  scented  bin  I 

Praise  Him,  when  from  the  dim  mill's  mis- 
ty din 

In  floury  bags  the  golden  meal  comes  home; 

And  praise  Him  for  the  bread  ye  yet  may 
win, 

When  steaming  liorses  plough  the  fertile 
loam, 
And  so  prepare  tlieway  torharvestsyettoconie. 

Praise  Him,  when  round  tlie  fireside  spark- 
ling clear, 

The  household  group  at  evening  smiling 
meet ; 

To  Him,  whose  goodness  crowns  the  circ- 
ling year, 

Lift  up  the  clioral  hymn  in  accent  sweet ; 

The  comeliness  of  Song  lift  to  His  seat, 

Who,  from  His  palace  of  eternal  praise. 

His  earth-born  children  hears  their  joys  re- 
peat ; 


(if  SV  Crrz3„    123 

Nor  answer  to  their  tl,ankf„lne>.s  delays 
Hut„,.,retl.eirgratef,move.itl,,.essMlrX 

<>„rel,a..ty,e,n,eartss,,a,M„„„..  „„,,,„, 

K...,nfiI,tl,es„l'e„d.,roftl,eM.s„„set  skies 

■'■'"""^"-^;:!:'."-'-'^--r>l-.u,e,.tpi,anta. 


Ah  :  think,  if  these  no 


nioreooiilil  win  thine 


N.r  earth,  nor  skies,  nor  the  n,ajesnc  sea. 

If  Love  weregone -that  jewel  Angels  pnVe: 

A„da„thatn.akesthe.SonrsfeLf,- 
What.  then,  were  g^„,g„„„^^__f; 

one,  to  tliee  .' 
■Vot  l.read,^thatstrengthe„eth  the  heart  of 

""'""'' grves""'''"  ' '-"'""^  ""'  ^'''t''" 
^fore  provid«nt,the  Heavenly  Husbandman 
«..ves  thed.viner  food  by  which  man  lives: 
Not  gladdening   wine  alone  the  heart  re 

ceives. 
Nor  oil,  wlnclj^  makes  his  mortal  face  to 

Like  Autnnm^ra'in  from  dripping  cottage 

He  gives  the  thirsty  Soul  a  draught  divine  ■ 
Come  ,   lay  your  thankful  sheaves,  fir.st  fruits 
ui)on  nis  shrine  : 


•\.t 


¥ 


124    ilj?  iBuhm  M  illfi?  (^vmz. 


TKK  LOBSTKIiMAX. 

r    ^     IT  is'ntall  fun  for  tlii^  I.obsternian, 
(Z^J       Tlio'  a  liardy  wiglit  lie  hf. 

'  And  tlio'  lif  cDint-  witli  a  clii  cij  fare. 
Like  the  sun  em  a  twinkling  sea  : 

Tie  sets  his  traps,  and  he  baits  liis  traps.— 
And  it  is'nt  the  best  "f  spurt 
To  find,  when  lie  nieasnres  his  crusty-backs, 
That  half  of  'em  tall  short. 

And  the  Lobster-folk  are  a  funny  folk, 
They  do  not  care  if  you  are  dead-broke  1 
For  once  I  heard  a  fisherman  say, — 
"  Thexc  jitktrn  irill  iniUi  f/inir  furiinii  x 

pl<')h 
.!«'  oft  then  net  like,  sin  ! 
Y(iu  tff  ii<iur  frapx. 
And  i/on  Ixiil  i/"iii'  trtij)". 
Then  somktimks  THRy'1.1.  (-.'wix, 
Sometimes  TiiEy'i.i.  i;'w  it, 
Sometimes  they'll  g'wokk  1  " 

O  it  is'nt  all  fun  for  the  Lobstirnian, 

With  the  brunt  of  our  Island  shores. 
When  the  boats  bob  quick  at  their  moor- 
ing, 
And  the  wild  Sou'easter  roars  ; 
When  the  white  spume  flies  where  the  dark 

reef  lies. 
And  the  wind  it  seems  to  say, — 
"  Look  out  for  your  traps,  you  Lobstermen — 
Look  out  for  your  traps,  to-day  !  " 


Ttrn 


MWh^ 


Umi 


125 


And  tliH  Lobster-folk  arn  a  f,.„ny  (oik 
About  the  traps  they  daily  an.l  ,,„ke  •' 
And  once  I  heard  a  lishernian  say  — 
'•■/'-^  '"f;  "  .'/""  0'u,/.f  to  l„  ,n,„h„,,  ,,a  ,, 
II  /'.'/  a„„  lh,„  net  til;r  si,,  ! 
y'liK  ,ifl  t/diir  Irdjin, 
yiiii  liiiit  jinnr  triiji.i^ 

TiMCN  .SO.MKTIMlrsTlIEY'LI,  (i'wH, 
SOMKTIMKSTIIKY'I.LO-WOIT,  ' 

SOMKTIMKS  TIIKY  1,L  (iwOKp':  " 

He^sa-wiMkin'  his  eye,  is  the  Lobsterman  ■ 
I  ve  none  but  friends  in  port  ■ 

The  most  of  my  haul  will  pass,  hut  not  all 
torafewof 'em  are  short  ■ 

Vet,  all  the  same,  its  a  losing  game, 
unless  I  take  my  toll  • 

Then  down  cymes  the  Warden,  as  suddent  as 
And  confiscates  the  whole  !  " 
Oh,  the  Lobsters  are  such  a  funny  folk  ' 
rhey  g've^you  an  egg  and  take  back  the 

For  once  I  heard  a  fisherman  say  - 

Whm  the  Lofmters  art  lihe  sin  > 
i'ou  set  your  traj>s. 
You  I, ait  your  trapn. 
TnBN  SOMETIMES  THEY'LL   O'WHf 

Sometimes  THE- 'LL  o'wouT, 
Sometimes  they'll  g'wofp':  " 


126    I!|i?  Itrte  ®f  ®I|P  €mm. 

O,  a  holiday  trip  has  the  I.(>t)st»Tiiiati, 

Wlicii  tlie  snow  sifts  in  the  sea, 
And  his  bnat  drittsout  «  lierc  the  breakers 
sti' lit 
That  leap  and  whiten  a-lee  ; 
Or  the  frayed  line  parts,  as  the  trai>he  pulls 

With  mittened  liand  half  fripze,-- 
Yes,  the  line  it  parts,  as  he  backward  falls. 

And  into  the  deep  he  g<ies  '. 
And  the  Lobsters  are  sueli  a  canny  folk  '. 
Do  they  knaw  at  hearts  that  were  hearts  of 

of  oak  '.' 
Yes,  once  I  lieard  a  fisherman  say,— 
"77(rr('N  nail'  ami  ur/iiiii  n  /iininrj/  day 
Wlirn  the  Itnliiti m  j'rfd  Ul;f  k'ih  ! 

Tlirn  yatt'll  net  //tjiir  lni//f. 
Arirl  i/oii^l!  halt  i/nitr Irajif, 
And  somktimks  thf.y'i.l  (iwin, 

SOMKTIMKS  THEyi.I,  (I'WOUT, 
SOMKTIMES  THE"  'l.L  GWOKK  I  " 

TO  JOHN    I.MRIE, 

ON    KKADINO    SOME    OF    HIS    SONGS. 

rUID    brither  o'   tlie  Scottish   heart  an' 
tongue, 
Sae  frau{;ht   wi'    Burns'   an"    Kanisay's 
tuneful  lore, 
1  mark  the  home-felt  sangs  that  ye  hae  sung, 
Sweetening  with  music  your  Canadian  shore. 

A  loving  song  to  me  is  always  sweet. 

Of  home  and  wife  and  little  children  dear  ; 


S!??  MuiB  m  43>>  (iroaa. 


127 


When  Scotia-s  lays  soft  native  lips  repeat 

How,  >cl,tl,e  Doric  accent  t.,„,y.„: 
De^r  t,,  ,.„  long  |,a,  been  McLaolilan  s  lyre  • 

<)  t  \yanl..ck  s  pensive  „„,s..  a„.tes  n,y  fire 

Or  brings  the  sudden  syn,patl,etic  tear 
And  Murdoch,  I„.,ki„gf,,„,,„.,^„^„^^,^ 

On  Fundy^s  wave,  has  touched  n,e„ith  his 
And  Harper,  ripe  with  his  scholastic  lore 

Mceps  ,n  his  heart  the  product  of  his  brain. 
Kind-hearted   gracious  Latto  !  on  the  street 

''''''iol:':'''""''''"''"'''''?"'-*'"" 
Thro'  his  fond  eyes  the  cast  of  Fife  I  sreet 
Hear  thro'  his  ears  the  Norland  Ocea^^roir 

McCall,  the  bn^sque,   the  generous,  wakes  not 

And  Ueir  has  hung  upon  the  willow  bough 

That  sweet  pipe  known  to  many  a  rounde/ay 
I  ea- tl,en>  frien's,  an'  frien's  I  deem  they  are  ' 

TUytZl^2Zt  "'^  '""'I'l''''  '-nc'-fo'rth'be 
tL        T      ^""P'<^  muse.-Tho-  frae  afar 
Imrie,  I  rax  a  brither's  haun  to  thee  ' 

A  s(;kne  in  the  bethel 

/^ROWDED  Father  Taylors  Bethel  : 
^^w-;>"'I"     "^  ""  ''•"  quarter  deck, 
nuhh.s  favorite  tars  about  him, 
He  portrays  a  sinking  wreck 


iffiii 


128   Wks  '^tirSiB  ®f  iifif  €ct00. 


While  he  speaks  tliey  see  the  yawning 
(iiilfs  of  the  tempestUDtis  sea.— 

See  the  blackening  heavens  above  them, 
See  the  surges  smite  and  llee  ;— 

See  the  sailors  hurrying,  toiling  : 
Hear  the  tliunders  booming  loud,— 

Hear  the  shrieking  of  the  whirlwind 
As  it  tears  thro'  sail  and  sliroud  ; — 

Hear  the  rattling,  wild  deck-trumpet, 
Captain's  orders  sh'iuting  shrill ; 

(  'Tis  enough  with  mortal  terror 
Kveu  the  stoutest  heart  to  fill  1  ) 

And  while  now  the  spell  is  strongest. 
While  doom  stares  them  in  the  face. 

And  a  hush  of  awe  falls  deeper, 
He  is  silent  for  a  space  : — 

Then,  far-leaning  o'er  the  seamen 
Cluster'd  round  him,  with  a  frown,— 

"  Boys  I  "  he  shouts,  "now  man  the  life- 
boat ! 
"See;  the  ship  is  going  down!" 

Quick  upleaps  a  tipsy  sailor. 

Knowing  not  where  lie  is  at, — 
Peers  in  wild  alarm  about  him, — 
Mutters "  Where  in '«  my  hat .'" 

Down  the  aisle  he  starts  and  staggers, 
Bent  on  giving  doom  the  slip  ; 


lllj?  il 


^'V  (Exmz.    129 


VaiNl.vTa>l.,roalls,  t.,  Imllliin,..- 
'■  lluvslyci,  n^ed  i,„t  l,.avt.  the  .sliij,  ;  ■ 

Hfttrr  tliaii  a  f..iiii,|,.n„^  v.ssH, 
O'li'  ii|M,!ia  low  I,.,.  ^|,„re  ; 

"''"',■","';""■:'■'"■"'''"'■■■■■  ''«KM..„hi..i, 

As  li«lj(,lte,i  thri,    tl,,-  il,„„ 
TIIK  PKISONKK  ,,i.-  .rilK   u.KS  I,U  iSALUT. 

DHKVH  s. 

/QIjAN  :  my  JK.th...  :  ,..>  ,„y  sands  are  run  _ 
r^       y"""--  :.ieal  justly  with  n...  «re  1     i... 
VVI.v  iLV'A  "^  "T  '">■ ''"'"'  I"  I'"-  I  cry 

caj,ti.^n.,,,Hs.,,ri,:;;to;;;,r^'''^'' 

H.neatI,  ,ny  C,,,,,,!,^  ,  f,„„.„    ,,^^  „,^|.^,;  ,^ 

Ills    l:NK,Mi|,i 

Silence:  tl|.,M,vr.t,.|,f„rl„rn:  It  is  to,,  laf 
IfonHwoul.    hfta„l.a.ii„gvo,c,f.,rther 
Ho  dead  ordan,„.d  ret„r,,%.l,.,  vanis  ,tl  ro' 
The  adan.antine  bolted  dm,r  of  Fat"'' 
-TZW"^"}  ??^  """lisl.ed  the  .lecreeV 


f>, 


fi 


THE  YOI'N  ,    MAN  AIWAI.OM 

»  II  le  the  snn  is  goinp  d(,wn,  ^ 

For  the  rnessenger  who  is  hastening 

To  Mead  s  high  walled  town  : 
At  the  long  delay  so  anxious, 


^i 


130    air;?  'SlAz  ©f  iSti^  ^niBB. 


His  spirit  bi'cins  tn  chafe, 
Kor  liH  cries,  as  tlie  scout  appmaclies,- 

"  /.v  Ihr  /liiiinn  mil II   Ahxiiluiii  ■•■iij'i    .'" 

N(i  matter  how  went  the  l)attle, 

No  iiiattvr  for  crown  i^r  throne  ; 
Hut  what  of  the  heautiful  creature,— 

Tlie  hoy  that  I  h)ve-   iiiy  own  '.' 
Say.  tosseil  on  the  tide  <(  l>attle  — 

i'he  fairest  an<l  ilearest  waif— 
DoeH  he  hreatlie  the  lireath  of  tlie  living  '.' 

"  /j«  tlif  i/oitii</  man  AhnaliDii  ""J'  ■' 

()  word  of  woe  and  soriow  ! 

It  is  cruel  that  we  must  speak  : 
The  cry  strikes  down  thr.uch  the  ages, 

And  the  tear  is  fresh  on  the  cheek  : 
For  a  thousand  lips  are  sayin);, — 

"Ah  :  where  is  Charlie  ?— is  Kaphe  ? 

And  what  of  the  child  of  my  hosoni  '^— 

'  /k  thf  i/iiuni)  mini  Ahxiihun  kh,!''  ■' 

WAK. 

WRITTK.N    WIIKN    TIIKBK     WAS     Bl'MOK   OK     WAU 
IIK.TWKKN    KNIiljANI)     AMI    AMKUII'A. 

BACK  :  thou  dark  Angel,  with  thy  garment 
stained  in  hlood. 
With  tlame-shod  feet,  wild  eyes,  and  ter- 
rible array  I 
Thou  hast  no  place  in  any  land,  to-day. 
Where  Christ's  hich  Lawof  Love  is  iindersto'd. 
Hack!  nor  let  loose  on  us  again  thy  crimson 

flood, 
These  lands  to  deluge,  since  nor  claim  nor  cause 

thou  hast : 
See  :  where  thy  hrflath  has  stained  and  blight- 
ed all  the  past, 


^■H9  Wwhs  m  iChiS  Criiaa.     131 

Must  has,,..,,  wil,||y,Vm,., ts  n,a,l  ..ar...... 

f---.iHM,„n„ity,  will,  «•„,.  i,„.reas,.,| 
H-.v,vesa.Ml]im..,,,,i,,|,,,.f,,,,,,,,,, „,j  ,„ 

KM«  ...I  :  ri.l-  „„  :Ji|„„.  hast  „.,  „,issi„„  |,„e' 

MKI,\\(I1|11,,NV^    W.VKI1\\,,K„ 
Y|y      \\  I.e.,  slmrp  the  holts  of  Kat«  wVre 

To  cheer  his  lieart  wouUi  often  say  - 
■  /.'t  I'll, I,,,,.,  as,  h,r„h  III,  .  ■„',/</." 
So  to  my  .•Soul  would  I  repeat 

lis  watchword  neathlife.sdark'ningskv 
When  Karth  seen.s  treuibliu^  ncrth  ,„v  f.  et' 
And  Hope  and  Kaitli  and  (J.urage  die 

Live    work   and  wait  ;  the  suhjeut  Hours 
To  him  who  wills  shall  tribute  l.rinK  ■ 

The  I.at..s  give  way  ;  the  Heavenly  I'owers 
Miail  take  him  up  and  make  him  king 

Trust  thou  in  (Jod  :  the  world  He  planned 
In  wisdom  ;-own  the  mighty  deed  ' 

Why  fearest  thou  ?     //.  can  command, 
To  aid  thee  in  thine  hour  of  need, 

His  Angels  from  their  shining  walls  ■ 

//!«  will  the  demons  must  obey  ■ 
His  power  would  gird  the  Soul  that  falls 

His  love  would  guide  us  in  the  way 


t 

k 


132 


Hir&a  ^t  ®5?i?  ®i'OM. 


I 


m 


[fi,         1 


Let  lis  be  '.riaii  tliat  lie  iiiiist  reisn, 

Seiiiire  in  His  iiiimntal  state  : 
Tliroiijjli  Iliin  our  bliss  survives  mir  pain; 

]Iix  iifiili'iii  •■!<  iliil/i  iii'iki   iiK  fir'  "'• 
His  word,  liow  true  '.   His  work  liow  fair  ! 
And,  even  while  we  lo..k  tliro'ijili  tears 
His  mercy,  irisil  on  the  air— 

Tliat  auoiei\t  miracle— appears  : 
Tlie  ingrate's  faltering  wor  I  ilisriaiii, 

Nor  play  the  palterer's  s\ilien   part  ; 
Why  should  a  living  man  complain. 

Or  nurse  a  discontented  heart '.' 
My  work  to  do,  while  shines  the  sun. 

My  song  to  sing  at  eventide, 
My  house  of  rest   when  earth  is  done, — 

With  these   let  me  be  satisfied 
If  e'er  my  heart  would  faint  or  pine, 

Let  me  look  to  the  hills  for  aid, 
Wliere  Stars  of  endless  mercy  shine. 
And  Heaven's  blue  banner  is  displayed. 

And  when  my  eyes  witli  tears  would  fill. 
To  see  my  liopes  in  ruin  wliirled. 

Be  mine  Melanchthon's  watcliword  still,— 
•'  Let  I'liilip  cKdKi  I"  riil<-  till-  iriirlil."- 


fi 


AT    HAMPDKN. 
Ini>epkni>knck  Day,    1S03. 

LOOP  tlie  village  stands.  1m  som'd  in  trees; 
Penobscot  rolls  his  sun-brigli  t  wave  below : 
There  ply  the  steamers  ;  there  the  vessels 


fililjip  Itsrlia  ®f  jlfep  cgj 


iJ3a.     133 


Pro,.,  <  rnnato,.  s  secl,ul,.,l,  sylvan  sl'rP 
Va,  all  tl,«  rivers  lights  and  „..|,„,ies. 

Witl,„,any,  not.  v„oif.r  us  „„,ve  along. 
''■■;^  «"ats_tlu.  star  sue.,,  banner,  tl.aLon.. 

The  patriots  warmest  love.  l,isl,,niest  song: 
ri.e  bells  are  gla.l,  and  every  l,eart  is  gay 
lo  iisber  in  the  Nations  Xatal  Day  : 


y? 


TIIK  COCK  AND   TIIK  PKAUL. 

rMIIATKl)    FROM    AKsOP. 

,  SKI.K  IM  H.liTA NT  bantam  cork- 
The  master  of  tl,e  featbery  flock- 
Was  strutting  bis  own  barlyard  round  • 
When,  lying  wbite  upon  the  ground 
Shining  among  the  yellow  straw 
What  proved  to  be  a  pearl,  i,e  saw  •_ 
A  precious  jewel  of  great  cost 
That  someone  wandering  there  bad  lost. 
He  pecked  at  it :    "  What  have  we  here?" 
Contemptnonsly  cried  Chanticleer  ■ 
"A  treasure  truly  you  may  be 

To  such  as  prize  you  ;-l,ut  for  me 

A  single  barley-corn  I  more 

Esteem,  than  all  your  tasteless  store  ' 


♦'■ 


iil 


134    it'll?  atr&a  M  ®i|i?  ffl^ariaaa. 


m 


51,  U 


Yon  anglfwonii,  tliat  twists  and  curls. 
Is  surely  worth  a  pfok  of  pearls    ' 
With  tliis,  aloft  his  head  he  threw. 
And  lustily  the  cockscomb  crew. 
Such  is  the  sordid  estimate 
Of  Uenius,  in  iiis  IiIkIi  estate  ; 

So  Art  and  Song  to  nought  are  turned. 

And  so  is  beauteous  Wisdom  spurned. 

The  pearls,  too  seldom  found,  to-day 

As  vulgarly  ate  cast  away  : 

The  Souls  most  precious  things  are  boast 

Of  him  can  feel  and  prize  them  most. 

CHICKADEE. 

©N  A  SPKAY  of  yon  pine  tree, 
Cheery  as  a  bird  can  be. 
In  this  keenest  winter  weatliei, 
W  ith  thy  mat",  blithe  Chickadee, 
Thon  canst  sit  and  sing  together,— 
(•l,irk-<i-<lc(-<l'<-''':''- 
Wildeststorra,  on  bitterest  day, 
Cannot  drive  our  bird  away,— 

Hardy  little  forest  ranger  1 
Here  thou  sing'st  thy  favorite  lay. 
Dreaming  not  of  harm  or  danger,- 

Searching  for  thy  food  the  trees  ; 
Swung,  like  flyer  on  trapeze. 

Then  erect,  for  blithest  singing,— 
Thai  scant  s.;ng   which  still  can  Pl«ase,_ 

Thro'  the  woods'  cold  arcades  rinping, 
Chick-a-dcc-dee-df. 


itV  Ijrta  Cif  ®ijp  ®roaa.    135 


If  the  trees  shall  long  be  bare, 
And  the  snow  lie  everywhere,' 

And  thy  food  he  scant,  come  winging 
To  my  window  ;  nrunibs  lie  there  ; 
Th.>n'lt  repay  mo  with  thy  singing,— 
(^hicU-fi-dfi-def-fU . 
C'ome  .sometimes  to  visit  me  ; 
I  will  love  thee,  Chickadee  !  ' 

Shelter  thee  from  want  and  cold  ■ 
Make  thee  of  my  table  free  ■  _ 
Nay,  'tis  thine,  this  forest  old,— 

Vliich-rt-ilrr-dir-flrr. 
THE  EAGLK. 

ALAPTEI.  FROM  THE  FUKNCH  OF  ALFRED  DF 
\I(!NY. 

©N  the  snowy  mountain  s,:m™it-yon  ham- 
let s  silvery  crown, 
Ihe  Spaniard  has  wounded  an  eagle,  came 
swooping  suddenly  down,- 
The  great  Asturian  Eagle,  that  has  threatened 

his  bounding  (lock 
As,  like  the  f<.am  of  ocean,  they  break  over  moss 
and  rock. 

With  wings  that  are  fiercely  beating,  and  rain- 

ing  drops  of  blood. 
The  bird   mounts   heavenward,  braving  grim 

Heath,  in  his  hardihood  ; 
Swift  as  tl'^^^«a-l^ing  leven  darts  from  it.  sheath 


r  ,< 


3S  i4. 

t*  iiii 


136    U¥  ^i3^^®  '®^  ^'^'^  ^mzB. 


If 


is  it 


i 


While  shriller  than  cry  ..f  bu^le  his  shriek  re- 

soiimls  aloiirl. 
sunward  hesteadilv  m..unteth  ;  his  filn.y  eyes 

do  seek 
Its  fires,  as  he  would  breathe  them  with  wide- 

ly-opened  beak, 

As  it  were  the  source  ..mniflc  whence  his  tow- 
ering spirit  came. 
Or  he  his  life  would  recapture  from  its  empire 

of  glowing  tlame. 
As  if  no  bolt  had  stricken,  no  shaft  could  reach 

him,  there. 
With  great  wing-strokes  he  hoveis  and  sw.ms 

in  the  golden  air  ; 
In  his  last  rich  bath  of  glory  he  seen.s  to  float 

and  rest ; 

But  the  hot  ball  there  is  burning  like  a  living 

coal  in  his  breast. 
Too  sure  was  the  aim  of  the  peasant  to  give  a 

respite  long  ; 
Strong  is  the  heart  of  the  Kagle,  bnt  the  grasp 

of  Death  is  strong  ; 
His  wing  its  shaft  drops  downward  where  un- 
der the  furze-wood  glooms  : 
As  the  regal  rose  in  its  fading  his  mantle  is  shed 

ding  its  plumes. 
Dizzying,  his  weight  bears  him  downward,  of 
his  proud  height  dispossessed, 


!fp  ©irnaB.    137 


Till  1,«  sinks  in  the  snow  of  tl.e  mountain  with 

wildly-heaving  breast  • 
The  mountain's  chili  ceeps  closer  to  the  heart 

whose  valor  is  done, 
And  shut  is  the  eye  undazzled  when  it  gazed  in 

the  eye  of  the  sun. 

O  Eagle-Soul,  undaunted  !  o  Spiritof  Love  and 
oong  I 

Above   the  Olympian  Mountain   thou  soarest 

bright  and  strong  : 
Like  the  Monarch-bird  thou  hoverest  aloft  in 

the  golden  air  : 

Ah  !   who  can  dispossess  thee  •.'    What  ill  can 
reach  there  ? 

But,  like  the  storm-born  Eagle  to  his  Asturian 
g.en. 

To  Earth  for  treasure  thou  stoopest ;  then  fain 

would'st  soar  again  • 
In  vain,  for  thy  heart  is  stricken  !    The  Spirit 

of  Weepmg  cries  : 
'•Come  ye  to  the  lamentation  :, behold  where 

the  fallen  lies!" 

CAMP-FIRE  MEMORIES 

WBITTBN  FOR  A  POST  MKKTING  OF  THE  OAK 

AT  HAMPDEN,  OCT.,    1897. 

^URS  are^tjie  memories  of  those  glorious 

When  bugle-notes  awoke  the  slumbering 

When  drums  made  sign  for  battles  to  be  born 
And  blood-stained  fields  oft  met  the  Soldiers- 
gaze. 


hW' 


I 


!! 


138    U^s  Itrto  ®f  ®¥  <i!i'siB!a. 

Again  the  batteries  of  Tort  IIikIsdii  blaze. 
And  roaring  dalilgrens  tliunder  a  reply. 
As  dauntless  Karragnt  goes  sailing  by, 
Witli  fleets  almost  the  hostile  shore;-  that  graze. 
Ours  are  the  memories  that  can  never  die, 
"while  yet  a  comrade  lives  who  wore  the  blue, 
Who  at  Chalraette  his  ready  rille  Icnew, 
Or  saw  at  Irish  Bend  the  foenien  tly. 
Such  scenes,  such  deeds,  in  story  live  again, 
When   at  their  Camp-lires   meet  the  Boys  of 
Maine  '. 


TO  RALPH   S1IA\V» 

IN  BKPI,Y  TO  AN    INVITATION  THK  PUESKNT 

WKITKB  WOULD  HAVE  BKEN  OI.AI)  TO 

ACCKPT,  BUT  KELT  OBLIGED  TO  BE- 

OLINE. 

^=NEAR  RALPH  :— 

■f(S)l  'Twas  in  my  heart  to  say 

■^^To  your  tine  bidding  instant — Yea  ! 
Since  Fancy  rises,  prompt  and  free, 
To  your  wild  nook  of  Ossipee.  ^ 

The  scenes,  how  fair  I  how  blest  the  days. 
How  sweet  the  hospitality  ! 
Sure,  these  delights,  if  shared  witli  thee, 
I  might  more  justly,  warmly  praise. 
Then  careless  might  we  lie  in  dream. 
To  list  the  son?  Af  Melvin  Stream, 
Possest  of  days— a  sunny  seven — 
Right  on  the  border-land  of  Heaven  ! 
Begone,  dull  Care  !  ye  bonds,  away  ! 

*    Of  Lmvell.  Muss.,  author  of,  "CAiiip  Ossipee,  and 
Other  Pni;ni;.." 


ollfip  WIAb  m  ©fjip  ©roaa.    139 


-Alas  !  tlie  w-ords  are  vain  to  say  ' 

Orq„ieklyImygripwo„ldpack 
And  liie  me  o'er  the  iron  traclc 
Or  by  the  bright  Sea's  breezy  way 
To  I'ortland,  and  to  Melvin  Hay    ' 
Clin.b  upward  to  (;.uos„iKr,.  and  pr>e 
Tlie  trout,  with  Mary's  cakes  and  tea. 
Hut  now,  while  you  are  thither  l,ent  ■ 

While  Weelahka  and  Melvin  Stream  t 
Inspire  in  you  tlie  peet's  dream 
And  the  old  pleasures  are  renewed 
Of  Nature  and  of  Solitude  ;- 
While  Ben  t  with  many  a  merry  pea] 
Makes  glad  the  rude  walls  of  Ckags„,el- 
Wh.le  sunset  flames  upon  the  Lake      """ 
And  tlirushes  vesper  music  make  ;  ' 
While  Mary  spreads  the  evening  meal  • 
While  noon  makes  still  the  thickets  round; 
While  morning,  gladdening  every  heisht 

Whiir,f "  ""w^""**  '""'  J"yf>'l  'ouni     ■ 
While  upon  Winnepesaukee's  breast 
The_snowv   shadowy  clouds  do  rest  ; 
Or  daybreak  bids  its  sheen  inherit 

While  up,  when  dreaming  night  is  done, 
With  growing  splendor,  lifts  the  sun  — 
Ay,  while  yonrnightshavedreamsof  bliss 
or  on  day's  golden  cycles  run  ; 
Think  how  your  "brither-bard  "  must 
miss 

•  Oliver  W,  Rnffers,  of  niTlcrica,  Ma<s 
I  £•,""":'"' vvatcr-cmirses  in  the  Paik  ' 
i    I  he  Poet's  Utile  son. 


■■lA  k 


140    il|f  Itria  ®f  ¥  '^nee. 


h   :"ih. 


The  tramps,  the  noonings,  and  the  fun, 
Condemned  to  sulks  and  to  complaining, 
While  in  his  own  dull  town  remaining  ; 
Since  absent  cash  and  present  care 
.  orbld  his  going  anywhere 
Beyond  his  oircle,-thaf»  the  bound 
Of  his  prescribed  parochial  round. 
Yet  thanks,  for  your  fraternal  call 
To  harbor  at  the  Mountain-Hail, 
And  hold  with  you,  in  poet-fee, 
Tour  famous  Park  of  Ossipee. 
You  love,  dear  Kalph,  the  deep  of  woods, 
The  festooned  manes  of  mountain  floods. 
The  cliff  and  soar  where  the  eagle  perches. 
The  shy  stream  crooning  'neath  the  birches, 
The  hills  whose  tops  salute  the  sky, 
The  nestled  la.ves,— onri  so  do  1  ! 
I  love  each  wild,  each  rural  scene. 
The  orchard,  and  the  village  green, 
The  blossomy  meadow  path  ;  yet  more 
I  love  the  lew,  resounding  shore. 
And  the  wide  reaches  of  the  Sea, 
That  bring  such  haunting  dreams  to  me. 
Of  grandeur  and  immensity. 
Fain  to  the  Hall  would  I  repair. 
To  breathe  awhile  your  mountain  air; 
Your  crags  and  glens  and  streams  to  see, 
And  meet  your  goodly  company. 
I  hear  that  Whittier  delights 
To  climb  with  you  those  craggy  heights, 


in??  lirJiB  m  il|p  Olroaa.    141 


Wliile  Lucy  Larcom  oft  willclioose 
This  favorite  region  of  the  muse,— 
This  beauteous  scene  of  wild  romance, 
With  your  congenial  countenance 
And  converse  sweet. 

But  the'  not  now 
Tliese  pleasures  Fortune  may  allow, 
Your  bounty  were  a  lure  to  draw, 
But  for  Necessity's  stern  law. 
That  bids  me  swing  bh  does  my  door. 
That  shuts  and  opens  as  before  ; 
But  Tliought  expands  o'er  all  Creation;— 
And  such,  dear  Kalph,  is  rny  location  ! 
Sometime  may  come  the  glad  event, 

When  what  you  planned,  and  what  I  meant. 
May  without  hindrance  be  effected, 
And  not  a  single  claim  neglected. 
So  bear  me  not  as  one,  in  mind, 
Who  slights  an  invitation  kind  ; 
Nor  class  me,  bidden  to  a  feast, 
With  old-time  truants  in  the  East; 
Who,  when  the  final  summons  came, 

And  all  was  ready,— to  their  shame. 

And  hospitality's  abuse,— 

Began  at  once  to  make  excuse  : 

One  had,  indeed,  a  friendly  mind, 

Yet  was  to  oxen  much  inclined  ; 

A  wife,  became  another's  prize  ; 

Another  sought  his  merchandize  ; 

But  each  agreed  in  this— to  sum 


M 


"Hi 


•  it* 


I 


142    3l|P  Iw^B  ®^  '^¥  "J'l^oaH. 

The  matter  up /('  '■""'''  ""'  '"""'• 

So,  serve  me  n<it  as  tli<  i/  were  served, 
Who  from  the  line  of  frieiidshipswervcd ; 
Count  not  my  plea  a  pretext  vain, 
Which  you  would  scorn  to  hearaRaln  ; 
Nor,  stern  resolving,  cast  me  oVr, 
And  bid  the  unworthy  guest  no  more. 
Now  let  me,  at  some  favored  time. 
Know  how  your  mountains  look  in  rhyme  ; 
And  how,  after  three  days  of  rain, 
(  Meanwhile  you  ne'eratrout  have  ta'en,) 
The  little  brooks  gvt  on  a  spree 
Down  the  wild  sides  of  Ossipee. 
Tell  me  how  \Valt<m's  gentle  lore 
Is  prized  on  Melvin's  sunset-shore  ; 

Tell  me  if  Kogers,  true  and tried, 

(  by  one  of  brown  or  grizzly  breed  ?  ) 
Stands  by  yon,  in  your  hour  of  need,— 
Like  that  brave  fellow  in  the  fable. 
Who  found  a  tree-top  comfortable 
When  Bruin  ventured  on  tlie  scene  ; 
(  I  nan,  I  think  his  conduct  rut  an  !  ) 
The  brother-traveller  at  his  side 
For  his  own  safety  must  provide. 
And  show  his  wit— more  ways  than  one  j 
-Tell  how  the  venison  was  done 
That  yesterday  you  'jad  for  dinner,^ 

And  If  you  fatter  gmw,  or  thinner  ; 

What  books  you  read,  what  deeds  you  do, 
What  dreams,  what  fancies,  you  pursue  ; 


WbfS  Itrda  m  Wlqs  iBxBBB.    143 


WImt  mazy  walks  you  wander  tl.n.iisli ; 

What  various  phases  and  delJKhtg 
Of  sunny  days  and  starry  niKhts 
Are  yours,  and  what  unusual  sights  ;— 
Wliat  Rlens  you   tliread,    wliat  cliffs  you 
climb, 

What  faerie  webs  you  weave  in  rhyme; — 
I'ray,  niake  the  schedule  as  cimjilete 
As  time  and  wit  may  fashion  it  : 
Then,  when  he  gets  //,„/  spicy  letter, 
Kklix   will  he  your  grateful  debtor. 

"WHO'S  WHO!"' 

fS  I  PASSED  thro'  a  wood    I  clianced   to 
see 
An  owl  roosted  upon  a  tree  ; 
To  wliom  I  said,  in  a  tone  quite  clear, 
"Which  is  the  greatest  boots  of  the  year'^' 
And  the  Owl  answered  me:  "Certainly  — 

W/i()'«  117/0—  \y/io's  W/,0  .'" 

"Vouare  right,"  Icried,  "and  with  you  I  agree- 
It  s  the  biggest  book  in  Anieri-kee; 
For  if  there  be 
Someone  like  me, — 
*>""'«  "cliy  scribbler  and  haunted  elf. 
Who  doesn't  know  who  he  is,  himself  — 
If  he'll  trouble  to  look,— I  do  declare — 
In  Its  priceless  pages,  he'll  find  out  there." 
Then  at  once  the  Owl  took  up  the  strain 
And  the  dusky  forest  re-echoed  again 
And  the  welkin  rang,  til!  all  was  blue. 

With,  "  Who's  Who  ?~ Who's  Who?" 


iliii 

-  - .  ■  1 ' 


144    ^kt  lir^a  ®f  ^¥  ^naa. 


Ik. 


A  PROPER  SPRING-SONG. 

»IS  time  to  sinK  a  »«>nB  <>'  Spring, 
)     'TIs  time  to  wake  tlie  vernal  lyre  ; 
'  But  dont  forget,  good  wif«,  as  y.t. 

To  stop  the  drauglit  and  feed  tlie  llrf . 
The  Mayflower  and  tlie  Violet-time 

Is  come,  at  last— my  song  mnst  say  ; 
But  every  verse  is  tagged  with  rinif . 

While  fields  are  russet,  skies  are  gray. 
Had  '.  Maid  ethereal  :  Nymph  divine  ; 

I  prythee,  give  me  cap  and  mitts  1 
And,  H  he  go  through  8lush  or  snow, 

Each  wight  his  overcoat  befits. 
Tis  April,  now,— or  maybe.  May, 

{  It  does'nt  really  matter  which  ;) 
But  I  must  sing  a  song  of  Spring,— 
So,  let  me  get  the  proper  pitcli. 

Hark  1  to  the  singing  of  the  birds  : 

— "  Y*  little  birds,  how  can  ye  sing," 
While  I  ray  cap  with  muffler  wrap. 

And  to  my  overcoat  yet  cling  ? 
Glad  tears  are  in  my  eyes— thri/  frirzr. 

Yet  are  they  glad  and  happy  tears: 
They  have  been  shed  by  poets  dead 

For  six  or  seven  hundred  years. 

I  cough,— the  rheum  is  in  my  eyes  ; 

Out  of  my  head  much  ichor  flows  ; 
My  feet  I'm  shovin'  into  the  oven, 

I  next  the  stovepipe  lean  my  nose  ; 


.^4 


iff*  mrhB  mi  Ulif  Cflroaa.    145 

My  voice  is  liamh  and  liusky  still, 
TIiohkIi  lioreliouiul  .-.loiis  |   s„'|„  ,„(! 

—  Hut  'till  iny  duty,  and  I  will 

Warble,—    MIowloTely  is  tlie .Spring!' 
I  have  not  seen  a  speck  of  green. 

As  yet  a  frog  has  not  been  liea'rd  ; 
Nor  yet  <i(.tb  squirm  the  early  worm 

In  presence  of  tlie  early  bird  ; 
Vet  I'll  not  reck  the  giralTe  neck 

Of  Winter,  and  its  icy  slioon, 
That  stretch  away  far  into  May, 

Touching  tl.H  very  tip  of  June. 
Vet  will  I  sing,  and  wake  the  string. 

To  hail  the  glories  yet  unseen, 
And  greet  the  Hower,  in  forest  bower, 
Hefore  that  beauty  there  has  been.  ' 
Hail  :  frosty  season,  soft  with  dew  ! 

(  Florii.  fori/irr  i,ic,  if  /  //,.  /  j 

Chaucer  and  Spenser  Uught  me  to  ,• 

And  I  will  do  it,  thoiigli  I  die  .' 

THE  STONE  WALL. 

iLOVK  to  linger  by  thy  shambling  side 
Thou  ahag'd  and  crumbling  trail  of  mossy 
stone. 

With  the  faint  August  afternoon  alone  ; 
Or  con  thy  lichens  at  sweet  eventide, 
As  they  were  runes  of  patriarchal  pride. 
When  brawn  of  sinewy-handed  pioneers 


ft*  11- 


■Ti^ 


146    ®I?P  ^itU  (§t  ^¥  CSlroM. 

Up-piled  these  rarapart-rocks  in  elder  years, 
And  tilled  these  fields  and  pastures  spreading 

wide. 
InSpring  here  blooms  the  thorn ;  theapple  drop, 
yellowing  in  Autumn  ;  gossip-swallows  glide  ; 
The  leaves  are  whispering  when  the  breezes 

pass ; 
The  barberry  reddens  ;  yonder  the  lamb  crops 
The  scanty  herbage.     Peace  and  rest  abide 
Here,  with  the  stones  and  shrubs,  and  tlie  tan 

grass. 


PI*  1 
II 


'I 


EUGENE  FIELD. 

■ONE  is  the  maker  of  innocent  mirth  ! 

Vanished,  the  smile  that  illumined  the 

—  earth  '.  ,         ^^       ^ 

Soul,  that  was  brightest-thegMdenest  hear  t- 

'  These  must  forever  depart! 

Weep  for  him.  Comrades,  who  knew  the  de- 
lights 
Of  song  and  of  story,  on  festival  nights  ; 
Witty  and  wise,  warm  and  brotherly,  too,— 
Never  his  equal  ye  knew  ! 

Lull  him,  ye  brook,  as  ye  murmur  along,— 
Te,  his  delight,  and  the  theme  of  his  song  ; 
Up  in  the  steeple,  where  lately  ye  flew, 

Wail  him,  ye  "-Croodlin  Doo  ."« 

All  ye  smalldwellers  in  "  Wlnk-a-vny  Land:' 
— "  Pitty-patr  "  Tippntoe,  "-come,  hand  in 
hand  ; 


®r0aa.    147 


C'ome,  -T,,„y.Wcrnyr  with  glad,  dancing 
ejes,  * 

Brigliten  the  sod  wliere  lie  lies  .' 
Love  him,  ye  children,  for  well  he  loved  you  • 
Mourn  him,  ye  niaidens-the  tender  and  true'- 
Fathers  and  mothers  ;-to  age  and  degree        ' 
Reverent  and  gentle  was  he  ! 

Sprinkle  your  light,   happy  stars,  where  he 

grew  ! 
He  wasn  friend  and  a  lover  of  yo„  ; 
Kiss  ,;is  sweet  grave,  O  ye  lips  of  the'dew  I- 
//    sr/Hjy  o/"/,,7//e n„!,  Bluer 

WINGS 
A   LEOBNI)   OF  THE   BIKDS. 

IS\HEN  first  the  birds  were  made  they  had 
n.  /  no  wings, 

But  with  the  reptiles  grovelled  on  the 
ground  ; 
Till,  out  of  efifort-so  the  poet  sings  - 

By  lifting  burdens,  wings  at  last  were  found. 
Not  sweetest  voices  could  their  hearts  content, 
Nor  plumage  where  its  hues  the  rainbow 
nings  ; 

They  "'■•°»^^'^t^on  Earth,  and  so  to  Heaven  the, 
'^'"'y  "'wi^  burdens,   then  God  gave  them 
Thus  did  the  Lark,  ere  he  could  rise,  aspire  ; 

Th»    «    f,    '"^'*'''  ''^"^  '""gi'-gs-ereherwings; 
They  fly  the  gloom  to  seek  the  morning's  fire 


^'  li! 


■'f! 


i'k 


148    iifi?  Mths  ®f  ilfi?  CErooa. 


And  she  who  toiled  in  tears  in  rapture  sings: 
Ah,  grovelling  Soul  '.  if  thou  would'st  soar,  then 

see, 
The  willing  warblers  point  the  way  for  thee  ! 


It!! 


m 


I 


THE  MUSES  IN  VILLE  MAKIE. 

TO    WILFKll)    ClIATEAi;CLAIK.» 

:^!\EAR  OHATEAUCLAIR,  it  seems  to  me, 
^^Tlie  Muses  live  in  Ville  Marie  ; 
^"^  For  there  a  rarely-gifted  Three— 

To  name  nae  niair— 
Know  Love's  supreme  felicity. 

And  breathe  its  air. 

Lives  he  not  there,  wha  sang  sae  sweet 
The  woes  of  gentle  Marguerite  ft 
And  Merlin's  kindly  Laureate  t 

Is  surely  there ; 
With  him,  they  all  delight  to  greet 

As  Chnteauclair. 

There  Mvrray  sings  ;  and  there  sings  he, 
Whose  herald  bloom  is  Fleurs-de-Lya  ;§ 
There  quaint  M'Lennan  ||  daintily 
Turns  the  auld  lay  ; 

*  Hon.  William  D.  Lighthall.  Montreal. 

t  Geoigc  Martin,  author  of  '•  Marguerite." 

t  John  Reade,  f.  R-  S  .author  of  "The  Prophecy  of  Mer- 
lin, and  Other  Poems." 

§  Prof  John  Murray,  ot  McGill  College,  and  Arthur 
Weir,  author  of  "  Fleurs.de.Lys,"  and  other  works. 

11  W!lliainM'I.ennan,  folk. writer,  romanticist,  translator 
of  old  French  Chansons,—"  Songs  ol  Old  Canada." 


impip  Ijrte  m  ilf?  ©raaa.    149 

Kob    Wan/or/,; f  and  ./„/,„  A rhor,/,  •• 

'Still  with  you  stay. 
When  you  a  feast  do  make,  my  wish 
Shall  be  for  neither  flesh  nor  fish  ; 
Bring  blackbird  pie,  whence  wines  eo 

While  each  throat  sings: 
Ah  !  set  such  oM-tirae,  dainty  dish 
Mefore  your  kings  ! 

Home's  cheeriest  A/.7/iMllunievour/fa» 
Now  these  November  evenings  fall  • 
Dance  the  glad  fire-gleam  on  the  wall, 

When  down  ye  git ; 
While  roun'  the  friendly  Muses  call, 

To  chat  a  bit. 

Long  live  ye,  'neath  Laurentian  skies. 
Securely  good,  serenely  wise  ! 
Lead  to  new  lights  and  victories 

Your  Ville  Marie  : 
Late,  late,  may  monumentals  rise 
To  thine,  or  tbee  ! 
My  dream  is  oft  of  Ville  Marie,— 
The  very  name  is  dear  to  me  ; 
For  there  a  rarely-gifted  three— 

To  name  nae  mair 

Know  Love's  supreme  felicity. 

And  breathe  its  air 


ri 


m 


i  'if! 


II 


150    ©I?JP  lirte  (if  O^I?if  fflroaai. 


is  fc" 


I  HI 


llitlll 


1 !» :  I 


THE    MAKING   OF    MAY. 
TT(j\HAT  is  It  makes  the  May  ?— The  coni- 
\jCj  i'lg  birds, 

^^  Brimful    of   mirth  and  gladness,  as  of 

yore. 
With  notes  far  sweeter  tlian  a  poefs  words  j 
Earth's  matin  bards,  wit;-,  immemorial  lore  ; 
The  mounting  sun  which  will  the  green  restore, 
And  wakfc  llie  dandelion  ;  the  white  thorn  ; 
The  delicate  arbutus,  seen  once  more  ; 
The  lengthening  day,  the  s  wift- returning  mom ; 
Tbel.'leating  of  young  lambs;  thelowing  heids, 
Ooing  to  pasture  ;  the  old  chime  o'  th' shore, 
When,  wave  on  wave,  the  freshening  seas  inroU ; 
Bluest  of  skies  ;  soft  clouds,  as  white  as  curds? 

Nay  I— The  blithe  heart,  we  thought  would 

leap  no  more  ; 
The  gladness  and  the  brightness  of  the  soul  ! 

EVELEEN. 

©DEAR  is  the  dawn, 
With  its  single  white  star  ; 
And  green  is  the  lawn 

Where  the  dreamy  dews  are  ; 
And  there  her  voice  is  beard, 

And  her  comely  face  is  seen, — 
To  break  his  rest, 
who  loves  her  best,— 
My  fair  Eveleen  ! 

Her  cottage  is  near, 

With  its  old  muBsy  trees, 


;;vt 


M' 


151 


With  iu  brook  running  clear, 
And  its  drowsy-head  bees  ; 
And  there  she  lives,  my  L„ve, 

She  who  loves  me  well,  I  ween  ; 
For  her  I  pine. 
To  call  her  mine,— 
My  own  Eveleen  ! 

When  I  am  on  the  sea, 

My  Love  is  my  song  ; 
The  deep's  immensity 
Shall  not  sever  us  long  ; 
For,  in  spite  of  wind  and  wave. 
To  my  kingdom  and  my  queen. 
Without  a  stain, 
I'll  come  again. 
My  own  Eveleen  ! 

Then  waft,  thou  white  sail. 

My  hope  from  afar  ! 
Teaoft  winds,  prevail  ! 

Shine,  thou  fortunate  Star  ! 
While  I  march  o'er  the  blue  wave. 
Gold  and  pearls  for  thee  to  glean  : 
The  lure  to  me 
Thy  smile  shall  be, 
My  fair  Eveleen  t 

My  darling,  adieu  ! 

I  shall  dread  not  the  deep. 
If  tempests  may  brew. 

Or  the  waves  sink  to  sleep  ; 


■4V 


.!! 


,.  j! 


i'i 


I' 
tfl 


152    M^i  ItrSa  <®f  ®^t  ^mm. 


For  they  cannot  keep  me  back 

From  thy  cot  and  garden  g'een,— 
Thy  sheltering  bt)wer, — 
My  peerless  flower, 
My  fond  Eveleen  '. 


I'i 


;i!i 


llo^l- 


ZOLA 

IN  HIS  DKFKNCR  OF  DBKYCIS. 

H»^  comes  wilh  succor  speedy 

To  him  who  sullers  wroiij;, 
To  help  the  i.oor  ami  lieeuy, 

And  bid  the  weiili  |.e  stroiis 

TT(S\HATE'ER  thy  faiilts-and    faults   we 
\KJ  deemed  were  thine— 

^      Thou  scribe  of  human  misery  and  des- 
pair : 
To  blame  thee  now  no  generous  heart  will  care. 
Nor  stoop  of  all  thy  books  to  blot  a  line. 
With  courage  and  with  cDustancy  divine 
I  see  thee  standing  single  to  defend 
The  name  of  thy  dishonored,  ruined  friend, 
While  Power  and  Passion'gainst  his  c  ause  com- 
bine. 
O  strange  reverse  '.  when  a  head  half  abhorred 
Takes  sacred  lustre  !     Bitter  was  thy  word; 
But,  oh,  the  sweetness  of  thy  deed  unpriced  ! 
While  round  thy  form  the  wild  mob  pressed  and 

roared, 
And  unjust  judges  near  thee  trembling  stood, 
Awe-struck,  wc  saw  the  calm  face  uf  the 
Christ  : 


MuhB  m  iJ|f  ^i-oBB.    153 


TKRRILL 

A   COL.EO.AN     WHO    WA.S    KU.LE,,   By    THK    *r 

CII.EKTAI,   msOIIAKOK   OK   ni"\n" 

WHIM.;   HUNTING    IN   THE 

MA  INK    WOODS. 

J^IIK  message  came  ere  even-fall  ■ 

\iy     Ami  „„„  tlie  busy  whisper  goes 

InunL?  "'/"""I'  •  •   Klcli'tlinBhall 
An  unaccustomed  silence  knnwK. 

A  truce  to  miith  and  sportive  glee  — 

^''««ampus  vacant  must  remain- 
ITor  underneatli  tlie  forest  tree 
Our  comrade,  Terrill,  ]iet).  slain. 

He    who  ofold  found  Man,  is  still, 

Where'er  we  move,  a  presence  nigh  : 
So  busiest  lives  their  measure  fill 

And  youth  may  find  a  time  to  die. 
The  fatal  cast  hath  fall'n  on  hin>  i- 

Our  lustiest  heart,  and  loftiest  brain: 
What  promise  with  his  eyes  grew  dim, 

What  l,opes  with  him  lie  early  slain  ! 

Y^  thro'  the  forest  leaps  the  deer 

R.^'!'!r'y"'.  "'^  P"''*dge  from  the  tree  ; 
But  st.ll  d,  that  voice  of  boundlesr  cheer, 
Ihat  gave  the  note  of  purest  glee. 

"ark -'Tis  his  bio, ddothguiltle.ss  flow! 

VVh.le  Autumn's  many-colored  wooes 
Echo  that  sullen  sound  of  woe 

Through  all  their  sun-bright  solitudes 


«)' 


a  I'M  , 


■i'l' 


if 

iff 

ill 


154    ife?  airte  ®f  Mhe  (£mzz. 


Ifiii 


Tliere's  blood  upon  the  withered  leaves, — 
Large  drops  the  wa.vside  grasses  stain  ; 

His  dying  moan  the  wind  receives, 
To  breathe  it  in  our  ears  again. 

And  who  could  hear  thy  feeble  call. 
When  lying  'neath  yn  forest  tree? 

Ue— //(,  who  marks  the  sparrow's  fall, 
He  only  then  regarded  thee  ! 

O,  busy  World  I     (),  quiet  (irave  1 
(),  Life  I  (),  Death  !  how  near  ye  lie  ! 

We  feast  with  Joy,  at  morning  brave  ; 
We  sup  with  Grief,  "neatli  evening's  sky. 

And  which  is  best?  .  .  This  world,  so  fair. 
Our  friends  so  dear  I . .  to  leave  them  all. 

While  pr'anised  life  seems  ricli  and  rare, 
Nor  yet  a  shade  begins  to  fall!.. 

fJod  knoweth  !     Let  no  mortal  boast : 
Hut  f/iin  is  truth  we  liold  and  prize, — 

That  Love  and  Faitli  cannot  be  lost, 
Low  in  the  grave,  where  TerrilUies. 


THE    WHlP-PuOK-WILL 

HEABl)   ON    NOULEBOBO    CAMP-GBOUND. 

,VlNE  is  the  solitary  road  ; 
^(ilooms  of  evening  deepen  all  around  me : 
Distant  gleam  the  lights  of  the  encamp- 
ment : 

The  rain-portending  zepliyrs  caress  me, 
Blown  out  of  the  shadowy  East : 


M  Ulif  ^rem.    155 


'Jiatli  in  tlieeven- 


A  long  and  diiiimiiip  track  ; 
^    tide  fading': 

""""'^!:r'^"  ■"-"''"'"' e..i>d. 

•"'niilinB  .-..t  upon  n,.  fro„,  t),e  Vale  of  Har  • 
A  dream-world  an  aronndme-' 

Tl.^  assembled  gliostly  Companions 
And  (i,,es(s  of  Memory,  ..  .  ' 

•  •     -nr  roirr  o/'f,,r   \Vhi),.,,„o,:„'ill  ' 

A  path,  that  turns  aside  into  the  pine  wood. 

A  sanctuary  Of  the  night-breathingwTnd      '~ 

rhe  entry  of  a  feoul  into  Eternity's  repose 
Then  comes  a  sus,.rrus-a  longer  surge- 
A  sound  as  of  far-off  seas-  *"'«e- 

I' ^s'thewaiTirmTirr-' ""'-■"'-- ^ 

The  pale-green.  delicate  ferns, 

ine  Sisterhood  of  this  forest  „■ 

They  tremble  and  wave  "''•■ 

Like  living,  sentient  creatures, 

And  nod,  conversing  with  one  another 

I  can  almost  hear  their  elfin  voices 

Where  r'  ""  "'"'  '"  ""*  ''"".  deep  arbor 
Where  they  are  clustering  • 


V^'l!;»^  BUlat't 


if^i/f-^  . 


'■fl 


t; 


'I 


|! 


i   1 


■1. 


156    U^t  MuhBt  (M  ^l|f  fflroaa. 


Tliey  stand,  like  the  clinriat^rs  of  a  tciniile 

Wlieii  the  anthem  lit  aboi't  to  begiii  ; 

They  till  iiie  with  awesome  delight. 

— Then  out  of  the  thicket  deep  conies  a  voice 

of  lamentation, 
A  weeping  note,  repeated,  and  repeated,  .  .  . 
.  .  .  —The  HI, III/  (if  tlir  Whip-piior-irill  ! 

And  I  hear  it  again,  and  again. 

As  slowly  I  wander  back  to  tlie  encampment.  . 

Then  again,  at  midnight, 

I  start  out  of  my  sleep,  as  if  some  one  near  roe 

had  spoken, — 
Forsaking  my  dream  :-- 

Then  throngh  the  open  window  comes  the  self- 
same sonnd, — 
The  plaintive  call  threshing,  d'her/i-lit-wlinepf 
,  .  .  —The  voice  oj'  the  Whip-poor-will  ! 

What  meanest  thou,  O  Bird  ? 

— O  Hird,  or  haunting  -Spirit  1 

Pursuing  my  wandering  feet, 

Breaking  my  lonely  slumber, 

Here  in  the  wilderness  V 

Art  thou  a  Voice  prophetic  ? 

lirievest  thou  for  the  woe  that  must  rend  mj 

bosom  ; 
For  the  beloved  and  the  beautiful  that  are  reft 

away  ? 
Ah  !  no,  sweet  Bird  ! 

It  is  fertile  solace  of  thy  mate  thou  singest : 
I  will  not  accuse  thee,  and  call  thee  prophet  ol 

ill. 


®V  Itrda  (if  aiffp  ffirBBH.    157 

«til.wmn„t.„«t  evening  to  the  song  U,.t 
liath  soothed  me, 

That  hath  (illedn,.  wit,,  tranq„il,,,iiB,,t- 
T'ie  l..rd  .,,  the  Knoan.pn,en;.-the   vlL  of 
"'e  F'iiie  wood,— 
Th,-.nn,,„f,h.    \Vlu,,.pnoy.„H,  : 

THE  MURMUR  OF  THE  PINES 

KK..M   ■.„«   RIV.SIAN    OK   BAHI.KIN. 
I   ^Tj..'"u"""""'""'-'""rnfthe  I'ineg 
f      That  by^n,^y  Window  their  .UrkTaUe. 
In  a  sad  monotone  they  whisper  deep 

F.,ff .     ""^l"'  """•"''"«*  "'a'  my  heart  divines  ■ 
E.rth,  saddest   Land   is  ours  .    fornoXe 
shines 
The  sun  on  one  so  like  a  prison  cell 
As  that  grey  realm  of  n  (st  in  which  we 
dwell. 

Whence  Happiness  has  fled,  where  Woe  re- 
clines. 

Onrheartsare  orphaned,  like  the  heartsof  men 
Who  have  no  Father,  and  noSavior,  more; 
We  wa.t,  but  not  in  patience-in  despair  ■ 

The  sky  IS  but  a  cold  and  darksome  den 

Where  life  alone  endure,  in  suffering  sore- 

-So  breathed  thel'ines  their  grief  inen,p: 

ty  air.  " 


158    sStfp  lirda  ®f  OII|f  &vms. 


I 


I' 


W 


!M!| 


THK  SPANISH    AKMAKA. 

A.   I>.   l.'iSS, 

lit-  lii»'-.   with  hi^  hri-;irll  uimI  tliiv  wiTi'  ^^Mtlt•r^•^l, 
I'sAr.M 

'T^llKliK  tliey  ){"> 

^JWlierf  tlif  foam  N  wliite  as  snow  '. 

^"^TliP  Sea's  soft  lips  kiss 

The  liiftitjst  Heft  o(  sliips 

Tliat  ever  felt  the  lifting  nf  the  main  : 

They  are  hrinKing  wne  t"  thee, 

England,  Mistress  of  the  Sea  '. 

The  wratli  and  defiance  of  Spain  '. 

Iberia's  majesties— the  yoiing,  tlie  strong,  the 

wise — 
The  (lower  of  all  the  land,  collected  there  ; 
They  bear  the  wealth  and  fame  of  the  mighty 

Spanish  name, — 
Lef  the  lirilinh  rravin  hrr-tw  beworc  .' 

So  they  say. 

Let  the  willing  seas  make  way, 

As  she  comes,  the  proud  invader  --the  Invin- 
cible Armada — 

Where  the  blue  waves  wallow  and  the  soft  winds 
sigh  ; 

Charged  with  her  thousand  thunders,  she  will 
dare  the  Sea  that  sunders, 

Prepare,  my  Mother  England  !  for  the  foeman 
draweth  nigh. 

A  hundred  ships,  and  more,  trample  down  the 
Ocean  frore, 

Each  stately  form  a  floating  citadel, 


te  i§ 


^Vli.rra  iiatiuii  aril,.-.! 


'  E'q^  (ixBBB.     159 


fury  ^tor.l^"  '""''"''  "'"'  "'»^'i'" 
"Hn«  U.et.rr.,,.  and  tl.el,u„  ,.„...,.    „„,, 
**itli  Muh  sti.ie 

"av..tl,.,,..ft,:„„„ „,„,^ 

Of  tlial  port  iiiaiU-  (r- 

Tl..ya.s„,„eu,ebr..,.,,pi„.,,j,^ 

Mutl,..st.,..n,vte„,„.,tlasl„.i  :,„„,, 

Ami  vi.xe.l  exc^,.,ii„giy  ' 

>'ovv.l..th.Ve„tu.,e-.b„s„„.s.w.ll 
With  tl„s  Kle,t  I„vi„cjMe 

''""'7"  P^"'""y  -"■  l.y  eve'ry  eager  «ave  • 
Ana  tlu.  fear  ofl.er  great  naL''^''''^' 
Seems  to  justify  her  claiiH- 

Th«  might  of  the  ....conquerable  brave 
With  majestic  ire, 

Tliwr  port  holes  (lashing  fire 

T:seS^?s.;;'-li--me. 

Are  steadily  advancing  -1  ^' 

^"'"  '-"H'-t-lords  and  n.asters  of  the  stnrn.  : 

He,  whose  will 

Tliis  great  navy  m.istf.Hfii 

L.ke  the  tiger  lieth  hid 

And  te,ls  his  beads,  the  Hermif  .  f  m.^    j 

Ay,  like  dragon  in  his  cave       ""'""'"^^ 

By  the  loud  Roeotian  nave 

Cro,.cheth^o„my_-fea,ured  Philip  in  bis  dark 


.1 


iiS: 


i'-i 


160    itfr  lijrda  Wt  ®lf*  ©iroaB. 


And  his  Tennm-hate  )ie  nurses, 
While  tlie  heretic  lie  curses  ; 
And  he  cries, — "i/f  »•  rfoom  /s  written  ! 
I  will  li:(ii<e.  of  tiiiit  ]>riiml  liriliiin  but  (i  ml 
rnemoriul  !' 

Here  they  come  : 

Let  that  hive,  called  London,  hr.ni  ! 

The  tramp  of  armed  men 

Sounds  in  her  streets,  and  rolling  drums  again 

Awake  the  startled  niglit. 

With  a  tnosin  o{  affright. 

And  the  clamorous  bells  are  tollingall  the  w  h  ile. 

The  news  has  come,  they  say, 

Brought  by  sliip  to  Plymouth  Bay, 

That  the  Spanish  Fleet  is   -i'l  Aurigny's  Isle. 

Now   my  England,  tried  and  true, 

Ah,  say  !  what  wilt  thou  do  ? 

Thou  chartered  soil,  what  will  become  cf  thee? 

Must  thy  unhappy  eons,  subdued  by  Sgianish 

guns. 
No  more  be  called,  the  Children  of  the  Free  ? 

Turn  away 

From  the  dreadful  seas,  to  pray  ; — 

Let  ^very  olden  fane 

Riiig  with  the  .\fistrcre  and  the  penitents'  re- 
frain. 

Queen  of  the  Narrow  Seas, 

Thou  art  upon  thy  knees  1 — 

Ood  oj'thf  Faithful,  let  thy  xtnmy  rigid  mm 
he,  bare  1 


ill    1 1 


All,  England,  never  fear  thee  ' 
The  mighty  God  is  near  thee' 
(AfterthyDrakesandGrenvilleswh,despai,P, 

Of  Mary's  bloody  hand  • 

Of  Latimer  and  Ridley's  fiery  pain  ' 

-Mnst  England,  void  of  honor 

Bring  forth  an<,ther  Bonner  ' 

And  light  the  fires  of  Smithfield  oer  again  " 

Rise  !  Sons  of  noble  Sires  !  ' 

Kindle  your  beacon  fires 

Fr"oi' M  "'*',";«^*''««  «f  "•«  Patriot  fly! 

''°"''''^"'dVa'd:re~--'^eHebri- 

With  the  watchword,  ringing  clear 

That  all  the  Land  may  heir  i' 

Scots  a,ul  nritons,  no.  ^tdtlme  U,  rlo  or  nic! 

Ijo  I  to-day 

'°"'""^"'^ra"2t.r„?g5r.'^f-^^'"-««-who 

Now  the  high^K,i^abeth,shedeep,y  draws  her 


,■»» 
( 


f!!= 


162 


» 


liLW 


'if 


m 


;i;!i 


3 


s<< 


On  tlie  wavti  ami  on  tlie  shore, 

llatli  ni)t  Kiiglaiid  fought  bf  f.ire. 

And  brought  the  tyrant  down  upon  his  knees? 

Let  this  Spanish  foe  be  unite, 

Ere  with  i/v  be  dares  dispute 

Our  nil''  t"  III''  l''i)il>i'''  of  III' 

Each  bis  sliare,— 

Let  tlie  warlike  now  prepare  ; 

Fislier  and  farmer  be 

Tlie  guardian  and  defender  »t  the  Free  ! 

Meanwhile,  from  dark  to  dawn, 

The  Ships  come  sailing  on. 

With  sails  wide-spread, and  Lion-banner  Hying; 

And  on  the  cradle-deep,  soft  I'anope  aslee).. 

With  all  the  Sisters  of  the  (aim,  is  Ij  iiig. 

The  Inquisition  horde. 

With  their  thumb-screws,  wait  on  board. - 

They  are  nearing  now  the  hated  Saxon  strand. 

But,  my  England,  to  reach  thee. 

They  must  cross  the  avenging  sea, 

The  Sea,  that  is  in  the  hollow  of  God's  hand  ! 

Now,  go  forth. 

Men  of  might,  and  men  of  worth  \ 

Let  not  these  "  tlns/K  "/  S>  ri/Zf.'' 

Who  in  British  blood  would  revel. 

Set  foot  on  English  earth  '. 

Were  there  ever  yet  such  sailors,  and  such  fight- 
ers on  the  Sea, 

As  sailed  that  day  from  Plymouth  to  meet  the 
en«my  '. 


m 


^f  lirBBa.    163 


Uravo  :  my  (j„„cl  Lc.rd  Howard  : 

Tlie  Narrow  Sfas  lif  sc<.iiri-d  ; 

He  chased  tlieiii  tlirmig),  the  (liamn.), 

•■is  a  liouiid  niiglit  cliasp  a  spaniel, 

And  lie  only  iought  to  win  ; 
And  wlien  English  valor  fin'islied, 
Spanish  pomp  and  pride  were    niinished 
And  Davids  (Jod,  and  DanielV,   U,  was  ready 
ready  to  begin  : 

Who  is  Hi:, 

Who  met  them  on  tlie  Hen  '.' 

The  same— ^/,,  m,,,,,, 

Who  overthrew   pro„d   Mizraim,*  and  A 

pnt  tfi  shame  : 
Let  the  I'oetnow  declare 
How  Hk  met  and  smote  them  there 
With  the  cannon-thnnders  of  the  hnrrieane 
How  tlie  r(,a[ing  Ocean-rips 

Strewed  the  eoast  with  Spanisl,  ships 

Till  I'hilips  hope  forever  was  in  vain  ; 

As  if  (,od,  himself,  ak.iul 

Had  cried  fr.,m  out  the  ch.ud,— 

^^",.r     ..hall    Fr,,d,.„r.    h„hr„,h   lu  r,    l„ 
«hnlt(  ,;,i ; 

While  the  Faithful  fought  in  prajer 

T.ll  the  Lords  right  arn,  was  bare 

And  fro„,,he  Seas  His  enem,. .,  were  scattered! 

*    J'-Kvpt. 


Syria 


^. 


164    il|i?  Itrfta  ®f  ^¥  '^nmB. 


n 


IN  NORTIIUMHEKLANI)  STKAIT. 

(>  wavy   water  laiiglis,   to-ilay, 
About  our  prow  ;  no  sunny  view 

Of  IMy-sail,  bent  faraway. 

A  blossom  on  tlie  blue. 

An  icy  fleet,  moored  all  around, 

Tlirongs  the  dark  Sea  :  tlie  anxious  eye 
Looks  to  the  water's  wintry  bound, 
And  to  the  wintry  sky. 

But,  like  a  tiling  of  power  and  will, — 

A  creature  resolute  and  strong,— 
Our  irnn-mailed  steamer  still 
Urges  her  way  along. 

The  Icy  shelves  are  crushed  aside  ; — 

In  vain  their  forces,  clustering  close  ; 
While  onward  thro'  the  inky  tide 
Indomitably  she  goes  ! 

Fit  emblem  of  a  steadfast  boul, 
That,  while  Earth's   hindering   legions 
strive. 
Forces  a  pathway  to  liis  goal. 
.\nd  will  at  last  arrive. 

Safe  in  the  Haven's  sheltering  arms, 

Escaped,  thro'  peril  and  thro'  strife, 
lie  anchors,  safe  from  all  alarms. 
And  gains  the  port  of  Life. 


I  ,    I 


[fp  Strliifl  m  alfji?  CxoBz.    165 


It  d:iiHU'lin 
tlU'DJ  lllf    pit 


DANDELIONS. 


imlv  yrcw  in  LTfi 


iihoiisf' 


w.-  should  think 

->[«>>   C  KAIK. 

fEVKK,  dear  Flower,  tli(,u'lt  suffer  slipl.t 
fmni  me  :  ^ 

Thy  coMjin.iniiess  but  makes  tliee  doubiv 
dear  :  ' 

That  face  we  love  we  often  wish  to  see 

1  liat  voire  we  love  we  often  wisli  to  hear. 
Thy  bright  rosettes,  'mid  grasses  smiling  near. 

Are  golden  sesames  to  ope,  once  nioie. 
The  long-closed  portals  of  fond  memory,' 
Thatlead  to  homeand  childhood's  lovely  lore. 

LoVd  Flower,  that  grew  beside  mv  Father's 
door  1 
Still  may  I  find  thee  where  mv  feet  are  set  • 
And  may  the  lowly  children  of  the  poor 
Still  twine  with  thee  the  purple  violet 
(iod  surely  loves  thee,  who  hath  multiplied 
Thy  humble  (lowers  n.ore  than  all  the  blooms 
of  pride. 


i 


THK  .MIDNKJKT  VK.IL 

A     HALI.AI)     OK     IIOMK. 

■M  THI\KIN(;of  mymother- 

Just  now,  it  seemed,  she  smiled  ■ 
Again  I  m  speaking  with  her 

And  I  feel  Im  still  her  child, 
ihe  hour  is  late  ;  lam  lonely 

For  the  midnight  hour  is  near  ; 
With  my  book  and  pen,  Im  musing. 
And  sitting  silent  here 


■  ;,'  t 


if 
n. 


166    il?i?  MxM  M  Mbi  CUroaa. 


Deep  sounds  the  falliiiK  river. 
And  tlie  stars  till  tlie  calm  sky  ; 

And  1  ffel  her  sacred  hreathing, 
And  I  know  my  Mother'.s  nigh. 

I'm  thinkinf;  of  my  mother — 

I  seem  to  hear  her  voice, 
As  oft  I've  heard  lier  singinp 

Some  air  of  ancient  clioice, — 
Some  hymn  of  martyr  glory, 

Wliose  triumph  rises  clear  ; — 
So  I  know  her  lot  still  blessed, 

And  I  feel  that  she  is  near  ;— 
For  a  mothers  love  fails  never 

From  the  child  that  once  she  bore  ; 
And  to  a  trne  son  his  Mulki  r 

Is  his  Mother  evermore. 

I'm  thinking  of  my  Xlotlier — 

Oh,  there  are  liours  when 
I'm  worn  witli  struggling,  toiling. 

In  this  world  of  busy  men  ! 
Then  her  form  walks  in  the  distance, 

And  her  memory  shines  afar. 
As  upon  the  brow  of  Evening 

Tranquil  rests  the  Vesper  Mar  : 
What  has  she  with  dust  and  cnnllict — 

Slit ,  whose  home  is  in  the  sky  '.' 
Hut  to-night  my  heart  is  quiet. 

And  I  know  that  she  is  nigh. 


'.i^Wtf 


IfiP  i! 


'  Whi$  ^tasB.    167 


Irii  tliiiikingof  my   Mother— 

lliiw  oftslie  looked  on  iim, 
Wliile  I  huiig  upon  her  hosom 

In  the  dream  of  infancy  1 
Then  liereyes  were  anxir  iis.  lender. 

Killed  with  sympathy  and  ruth, 
As  she  oft  would  gaze  upon  nie 

In  the  waywardness  of  youth  ; 
Ah  :  perchance  she  sees  more  clearly 

All  my  faults  and  follies  now  ; 
Hut  I  look  upon  her,  seeing 

Never  frown  upon  her  hrow. 
Ini  dreaming  of  yon.  my  .M..tlier— 

And,  oh  :  "tis  a  thought  of  woe. 
That  e'er,  in  your  fond  c(  ntiding, ' 
Your  spirit  a  pang  could  know  : 
And  my  heart  cries  to  you,-  Foreive 
me,  ° 

If  ever  /  caused  von  pain.— 
If  e'er,  wlien  you  trusted  and  loved  me. 

I  gave  you  not  love  again  '. 
It  was  ever  my  fault  to  he  heedless. 

To  wander,  and  dream,  and  forget  ; 
And  the  gentle  word  and  the  kindlv 
deed  ' 

Are  undone  and  unspoken  yet. 

I'm  thinking  of  my  mother— 
/,  who  mingled  with  the  throng, 

Seeking  fame,  or  seeking  pleasure, 
I-ured  by  many  a  uren-song  ! 


*)'' 


'Pi 


168 


9nM  ®t  ®t?P  (ima. 


„l 


I' 


All  1  what  victories,  wliat  prizes. 

Have  tliese  eager  liands  possessed  '.' 
.  .  Mother  !  I  come  liome,  at  evening, 

Tn  tliy  lieirt,  tliine  arms,  to  rest  I 
luucli  me  the  sweet  lore  of  cliildhood! 

As  when  your  babe's  sinless  brow 
Drew  your  mother-eyes  so  fondly. 

So  you're  looking  on  me  now. 

I'm  thinking  of  my  Mother- 
On  the  hill  two  graves  were  made  ; 

In  the  earlier  sleeps  my  Father, 
.Mother  by  his  side  was  laid  ; 

There's  a  cot  upon  the  hillside— 
Never  rising  smoke  is  seen. 

Never  face  looks  forth  at  morning. 
Never  liL'hted  lamp  at  e'en  ; — 

From  that  home  no  more  she  oometh. 
As  she  came  in  bygone  year  ; 

But  the  House  of  Many  .Mansions 
Opens and  1  feel  her  near  ! 

I'm  thinking  of  my  Motlier — 

As  yon  river-wavr  doth  roll, 
Freshening  thro'  its  own  ifreen  valley. 

So  her  memory  through  my  Sonl  '. 
When  my  heart  is  hot  within  me, 

When  my  spirit  drw.peth  low. 
Then  from  out  the  clime  of  Childbood 

Fancy's  stream  will  softly  How  ; 


1,    • 
i    H 

4       .< 


®If?  ItrBia  mi  ©Iff  drnaa.    169 


■  t 


Olden  friends  will  g,t|,er  round  me, 
L»ng-l„st  scenes  rise  to  my  siglit 

Tlien  I  feel  my  mother  near  me, 
As  I've  felt  her  here  tonight' 

K"n„|„„l  F^.lls,  Mai,,,.,  ,\„^,    ,,,^ 

MOUNTAIN   AND  I'OET 
►■KOM    IHK    KRKNtU   OK  GAITIKH. 
.^jr^lJOU  idle  Mountain  :-•  cried  the  chid- 
\2/  '"K  I  lain, 

"  Nor  fruit  nor  flowergrow  on  thv  wind- 
swept brow  :  " 
"Thou  Poet:"  cried  the  Crowd,  "What  use 

hast  thou '.' " 
Who  saw  him  as  he  tuned  his  lyre  again 
Then  spake  the  wrathful  Mountain:    "I  con- 

strain 
The  harvests  on  thy  teeming  lipids  tr  grow  • 
From  tip  of  my  white  hreast  I  bid  to  flow 
The  silver.threadingstrean,s  ;  I  feed  thy  grain- 
I  temper  thy  noon  sun  ;  I  hold  the  olond  ■        ' 
Knead  the  pale  avalanche  ;  th.  thunders  roll  • 
Dissolve  the  crystal  glacier,-     Then  outspake 
The  large-browed  Poet,  answering  the  Crowd 
Spare  me  my  lyre,  since  f  ron,  its  smitten  wires 
Tears  trickle,  and  break  forth  enlivening  (ire.- 
And  chide  me  not,  since  from  „,y  wounded  Soul 
(.ushes  a  stream  the  thirst  of  man  to  slake 


i 


It !  M^ 


170    Sljip  HiirJiB  ®f  ®Iff  CiroBB. 


AN   AUTUMNAL    LETTER 

ADDBKSSEI)  TO   CKKTAIN    KKIKNDS,  WITH  THE 

BKIJIKNT  THAT  IT  UK  BKAI>  IN  TUEIB 

CONVIVIAL  A8SKMBLIES. 

T  TgXHEN  Autumn  winds  begin  to  blow, 
VXyAnd  waning  woods  make  splendid  show, 
^  In  all  their  painted  pride  ; 

And  the  blue  Aster  'gins  to  nod. 
And  sunny  plumes  of  (ioldenrod 

(iild  every  green  wayside  ; 
When  Hies  the  Thistle's  downy  seed. 

And  silken  butterflies 
O'er  brightest  flowers  with  white  wings 
speed, 
My  heart  within  me  sighs. 
As  places  and  faces 

Come  back,  I  knew  of  yore— 
The  fond  hearts,  the  kind  hearts— 
The  days  that  are  no  more. 

O  good,  the  ruddy  fruit  to  see 
Hang  ripe  on  every  scented  tree, — 

The  harvest  gold  mature  1 
They  tell  us  Gods  almighty  liand 
Hath  made,  tliro'out  the  teeming  land. 

The  bread  of  man  secure. 
But,  ah  :  the  birds  of  song  are  dumb, 

Tho°  calm  the  sunshine  lies  ; 
And  to  the  eye  a  tear  will  come 

When  wide  the  red  leaf  flies. 
Forever  we  sever 


t  ,S 


Bm  mm  i§{  ©f^f  CSrcaa.    171 


'>"iii<*  sacred,  tfnd^r  tic- 
MillfrKtiriB,  ugrettin^, 
Hit)  dreamy  days  K<.  bv. 

WlmttlM„,,.tl,esedays  will  bring  to  „,i„d 
Of  temperate  s...,s,  of  air,  rwlned 
And  skies  divinely  clear  ' 

Tl.e  heart  its  sacred  treasure  sums. 

When   loj.coneenial  Autumn  comes, 
1  he  Sabbath  of  the  Vear  '   •• 

».it  ,vl.en  l„ved  forms  and  faces  part 

And  dearest  ones  are  gone 
A  holy  hush  falls  r<„md  the  heart 
Where  we  are  left  alone. 
Ah,  sweeter,  and  better. 

The  scenes  where  we  abide— 
True-hearted,  departed— 
That  they  were  by  our  side  : 
O,  pensive  pleasure,  sweet  to  all 
Who  lonely  muse  at  evenfall, 

When  fires  of  sunset  burn, 
And  to  its  tent  of  twilight  blue 
We  see  that  marvel,  ever  new, 
Th«  Vesper  Star,  return  — ' 
To  w,ke  some  Spirit^haunting  strain 
Like  waves  of  Ocean  vast 
And  summon  Friendship  s  hallow'd  train 
From  out  the  holy  Past ;— 
O  pleasure,  and  treasure  .' 
O  gift  beyond  compare  : 

John  Li)j;:ui. 


MICROCOPY    RESOIUTION    TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


^  x^PPLIED  IIVMGE     I 

^^  165:5   Eost   Main    Street 

j,^^  Rochester,    New    York         14609       uSA 

.^S  (^'6)      92  -  0300  -  Phone 

^^  (716)    288  -  5989  -  Fa« 


'il . 


.■^jjaaw 


172    "MiS  liriia  ®f  'i>w  CrBaa, 


1 


V 


is; 


t  iiit 


III  ilreaTiiint:.  in  si-fiiiiiiK, 

I'o  niHft  iiur  dear  i.iifs  tlit-rf  '. 

Vf  Ix-iiiitmiis  tielils  1  l.ivf(l  .>[  yore, 
W  ln'ii  linnfiiiit;  ""  Acadia  s  slmre, 
Ye  fiiPiids  tliat  there  I  knew, 
1  greet  villi  with  a  m!is  "f  clieer. 
And  drop  for  Memory's  s,ake  a  tear, 

Or  watt  a  wisli  for  you. 
Kind  liearts  !  for  yon  Love's  cup  I  liH, 

And  bid  her  wine  to  How  ; 
In  Memory's  lea>li  1  hold  you  still, 
And  will  not  let  you  yo  '. 

With  meeting  and  fireeting, 
Some  pass  a  careless  day  ; 
Faint  hearted,  soon  patted,— 
A  Friend  s  a  Frii  nd  for  i\ye. 

(>.  blest  are  they  who  still  i  ndure. 
Who  keep  their  friendsliips  bright  and 
pure, 
Their  loves  without  alloy  '. 
Ill  vain  the  wheel  of  Time  may  roll, 
While  Soul  delights  in  kindred  Soul, 

Karth  knows  no  deeper  joy  : 
For  us  the  noblest  hearts  have  beat ; 

Uurs  are  the  Men  Divine  ; 
I'oet  and  Sage— the  wise,  the  great- 
Are  they  not  yours  and  mine? 
Xo  fear,  then;  we'll  share  then, 

Wliat  treasure  Lov«  may  hold— 
The  sweetest,  completest— 
The  honey  and  the  gold. 


•'i-!|if  muhs  (if  f  CTii?  i^raaa,    173 

An,l  Natn...,  toM.  is  „„rs  :    Tlie  Hani 
«M„  i.",k.Ml.,„all  wit),  fo.,,1  „.gar,l. 
To  usilntli  sw«-ftlv  call  ■ 

"*"''"'''   I'v'j/'*-''""  '      ""    "'"■''■'  """' 

JI'iii(/«,  •' 

-in-  frrr  iilikf  to  nil. 
h,  ,/„,,.■<  wh,'H  ,/„xi,,s,lrr/:l/,r  ,,rn„n,l 

A  ,1,1  hh,rl:l,ii-(U  irliisflr  ,-1,  ,ir 
\yilhh,.,„:tj<,,i  ,„n-  heurl.  will  l,uun,i 
'1 11  HI  I  Jli,  i-iniihKj  i/Kir  : 
On  Ur,UK  ifliin  11',' f,l,,„K>_  t/tf,,^ 
H;'llsif  r,„U  s>.wlh  a  tnur  •' 
Sjjur  rhjiMi  met  u;:'ll  time  tin 
A  u,l>ii„!,-twl,i„  we  hue  donr.'l 
Ours  be  the  sound  of  Sabbath  bells 
When  high  the  boundless  rapture  swells 

On  every  wind  that  blows  ; 
And  ours  the  "high-builtorgans,"  nlaved 
When  clear  the  choir  sings,    "  Gon    ,  s 

Wliere  He  his  power  bestows  ■ 
(Jurs  be  the  altar  and  the  shade,    ' 

Where  Souls  adoring  come  • 
And  ours—where  warm  our  hearts  are 
laid — 
The  sacred  joys  of  Home. 
Forever,  and  ever, 
Here  let  our  love  abide  I 

Burns.  Epistle  to  D:n  ic 

Wordsworth.    The  White  Dne  yf  Kvlstonc. 


Jr 


174   'im 


Itiriia  ®f  W^f  ©roaa. 


i 


n 


(irpal  (iiviT  :  all.  ncvt-r 

iHir  hearts  from  tlifsc  divide  ! 

TlicM  l^t  ns,  friends,. .111  hearts  ccntei.t 
With  whatsoeVr  is  excellent. 
Abiive.  behiw.  tlie  skies  ; 
He  iMirs  what  treasure  iiiav  endure— 
The  good,  the  h.velv,  and  the  pure- 
The  "everlastinn  prize  " 
Let  lis  tlie  higher  Call  ohey. 

And  woo  the  arach.iis  Towers; 
So,  when  Earths  shadows  pass  away, 
Life's  substance  niav  be  ours. 
My  greeting,  repealinfr. 

To  you  these  rh\nies  1  send  : 
Delaying,  while  praying 
You  blessing  witho;t  end. 


WUITTIER 


'  ii 


O  \I-iii  iHlovM  !  thou  hast  iH-tn  mi- 
■         ,thv  G^d  thy  ^'iMitk'  .S'uil  iv 


\d: 


;>tHl  ami  nunirnM, 

Since  t"thy  uaa  tny  si^."'-  - luri.id. 

IlKN  to  shed  blood  and  desecrate  Man- 
kind 
feet   of   men  a-e   swift,  and   nnre- 
strained 
lien  Karth  is  darkendand  pro- 
faned 

By  Superstition  and  the  sordid  mind  ; 
When  eyes  are  lustful-lit,  to  Beauty  blind, 
And  Souls  with  envy  burn,  instead  of  love  ; 
When  Hate  lias  passionate  hunger  ;  when  the 
Dove 


The 
Their  hands 


ii 


®I|i?  Ijffte  m  ©Hfi?  HMxaBa.    175 

IstornbytlrV„lt„re,sl,rieking<lr.wiUhewind- 
—  When   scMRs  and  tl„.„gi,ts    iike  tlifse   n,y 

licart  wnnid  grieve, 
Then  tnrn  I  hack  to  thee,  thou  praei.,„s  one  ■ 
And  thy  l„vd  pajje,  and  thou,  again  do  weave 
Comforts  t.,rn  web,  and  re-knit  hopes  undone- 
The  worUl  rebloonis,  while  Heaven  smiles  on 

us  sti  il. 
Walking  with  thee  the  groves  of  Ilaverliill. 


g 


-    Iv 


THE    PLEA.  ' 
OVE,  when  1  boar  thy  soft  voice  swell 
Witli  the  rich  notes  I  love  so  well 
One  song  doth  sweetest  seem  to  be,— 
It  is — "  Hiiiirnihcr  iiir/'' 

'Tis  then  I  fondly  lean  to  trace 
The  patlios  of  thine  eager  face,— 
The  tenderness  th!-      wells  in  tliee. 
And  in,  "A,   ,>ci)ilirr  t,ir/' 

The  sweet  appeal  mounts  t(,  its  close, 
And  to  my  inmost  .Spirit  goes  ; 
Love,  hovering  in  thy  minstrelsy. 

Crietb,  "  Ke.mkmbki{  mk  !  " 
Let  not  the  world's  forgetfulness 
Thy  mind  o'ersliade,  thy  heart  opjiress: 
What  is  my  world  ?— It  lies  in  thee  .' 

All,  Love,  remember  me  '. 

Within,  aronnd,  if  all  be  changed. 
With  earlier  loves  lost,  or  estranged. 


# 


176    ihi?  lirte  ®f  it?i?  ©raaa. 


It 


Oh,  then,  by  all  they  seemed  to  be. 
Do  tiKiii  remember  me  ! 

Should  I  in  aiight  unworthy  prove. 
Or  sin  against  thy  truth  and  love, 

Let  me  nut  yet  be  lost  to  thee, 

Hut  still  remember  me. 

If,  in  the  hour  of  hope  or  dream. 
Some  godlike  touch  did  on  me  seem. 
By  all  I  was.  or  aimed  to  be, 

My  Love,  remember  me  1 

By  all  fair  scenes  beneath  the  sun. 
By  all  loved  forms  we  looked  upon, 
By  our  hearts'  solemn  ecstasy. 

My  Love,  remember  me  ! 

Before  thee  should  it  me  befall 

To  reach  the  bourn  that  waits  for  all. 

As  one  who  st'll  bus  love  for  thee, 

O  Love,  remember  me  ! 
Was  there  some  blemish  that  thy  love 
Wept  to  behold,  and  would  remove  ; 
Forget  what  thou  no  more  canst  see, 

And  <),   remember  me  '. 

I  would  not  be  a  shade,  to  blind, 
A  discord,  to  perplex  thy  mind  ; 
As  some  sweet  psalm,  whose  chords  agree, 
May'stthou  remember  me. 


11.        4  \V, 


SJIji?  iinM  (if  SIJjp  Cy^aa.    177 

But  if  before  iiie  tlinu  sljalt  k" 
To  that  dim  sliore  tli'  Ini?i<,rtals  know, 
Tii"re  thou,  till  glad  thy  face  1  see. 
Iieor  Love,  remember  me  ! 


FELLOW.SIIII-. 

[(5\H()  kuowscoutemptami  the  despite  of 
*  f  man  ;  — 

Ay,  who  hath  pride,  to  l.ide  the  wound 
of  love  ; 
And  who  hath  home  him  calmly  as  he  can 

Who  feelsahoundand  struggling  passion  move- 
Who  from  a  slight  hatli  quickly  turned  away 
(  As  one  who  plucks  a  rose,  to  find  a  snake  " ' 
Curld  round  liis  finger  ;  yet  will  scorn  to  slay 
So  shakes  it  from  him,  tho'  the  anguish  take  ' 
His  panting  breath  ;-or,  who  hath  been  nro- 

ferred. 
To  be  rejected,— rues  a  doting  friend  ■ 
Who  finds  his  fault  appraised,  his  meritslurr-d- 
Who,  not  unworthy   knows  himself  unkenned- 
Who  IS  a  mark  Scorn  slioots  at :— lo  :  I  stand   ' 
Beside  him.  share  his  lot,  and  hold  his  hand  ! 

.  CORN  OF   THE  MOUNTAIN 

Thc.reshullhcanhandluinf  corn  i„  iIk- ,  ■., ,  1,    upon  ,h 

I'SALM  72;i6. 

©LIVIN(i  Corn  of    the  Mountain  !      The 
hymn  that  the  Psalmist  sung 
.     Has  told  in  its  deathless  music,  as  of  heav- 
enly bells  outrung. 


•fl; 


178    it??  Mlthz  ®f  yitf*  ®rofla- 


llow  the  bread  of  the  hungry  nations  from  the 
lleiglits  of  Love  hatli  sprung. 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain  !  Goii's  multi- 
plying Breaii, 

Sentdownfromtlie  lieightsof  sunsliine  wlience 
the  streams  of  Life  are  led. 

Your  grains  are  the  hidden  jewels  »lierewitli 
our  Souls  are  fed  ! 

O  Living  Corn  of  tlie  Mountain  '.  O  Life  of  Hu- 
manity ! 

There  are  many  with  eyes  uplifted,  as  longing 
Thy  gift  to  see  ; 

There  are  many  souls  anhungered  tliat  sit  and 
wait  for  Tliee  ! 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain  !    And  canst 

thou  prosper  so, 
Wher-  the  splintery  peaks  pierce  hraven,  and 

th-'  icy  strea'iilets  flow, 
While  the  gl-stening  palms  of  Abana,  and  the 

cedars  wave  below  ! 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain  !   The  gift  It  is 

downward  borne 
From  the  rainbowed  home  of  the  glacier,  where 

the  sun  makes  glad  the  morn  ; 
The  hand  of  the  Master  scatters  the  largess  of 

golden  Corn. 

O  Living  Corn  ol  the  Mountain  1  Theriverand 

plain  below. 
Without  the  God  of  the  Mountain,  cannot  make 

the  Corn  to  grow  ; — 
Though  Man  may  plant  or  may  water,  He  the 

increase  must  besto  :. 


iDi 


®bp  ijrJia  ®f  gfff  ®raaa.    179 


«    living  n,.„  of  tl,..  Mountain  :    1„    vain  is 

Hut,  where  lie  blessetl,  an.l  givetlMlu.  ice  and 

the  rocks  have  bread. 
Ami  the  liii.ty  sands  ..f  the  desert  breed  lilies 

and  roses  red. 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Monntain  !  (iod  give  and 
scatter  Thee  I 
'      Thon  art  the  bidden  fulness  and  sweetness  of 
Ueity, 

And  Thou  art  tlie  ejcell.nt  Guerdon,  asair  and 
as  sunshine  free  ! 

()  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain  :  (iod  speaks 
and  the  deed  is  done  ; 

The  flat  of  Creation  is  a  Word  that  doth  swift- 
ly run  ; 

And  the  harvest  of  Christ's  great  Passion  is  wa- 
vina  like  Lebanon. 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain  I    Spring  thou 

but  prosper-'usly  : 
The  fruitless  tares  shall  wither,  'mid  the  har- 

vest  waving  high  ; 
The  living  Corn  shall  ripen,   while  cockle  and 

darnel  die. 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain !  O  FooW  of  the 

World,  widespread  ! 
L,et  faint  hearts  feed  upon  Thee,  and  let  mv 

Soul  be  fed  ; 
And  let  the  perishing  People  draw  nigh  to  the 

Living  Bread  '. 

O  Living  Corn  of  the  Mountain  !    Sow  it,  and 
sow  it  abroad, 


M'. 


■til 


180    W^e  'Sum  (if  iV  Csroaa. 


f 


i:l 


Whtre-    r  tlif  ft^et  c,f  Kaiiiiiie  ami   Misery  have 

III  tlie  faces  ..f  Vin  ami  Scrru  v,  reap  tlie  liarv- 
fst-fleld  of  '""l  ' 


i 


TALKSTINA. 

K   IIILL.'S  of  <liid,  by  Angels  imd  : 
Ye  Ix-autcous  skies  o'erspreail  ! 
I  liail  your  meks,  yoiir  flowery  sod, 
Wliereon  tli  •  homeless  Son  of  (iod 
Kested  his  weary  liead  ! 

Lan<l  of  tlie  Lamp,  the  Seraph  Choir, 

Tlie  rn.iihetand  tlie  hatie  ; 
The  I-and  where  David  swept  his  lyre;— 
Of   Him  who  sent  the  Holy  Kire— 

The  Joy  of  every  .Ace. 
Ye  groves  of  palm,  ye  uedar  trees. 

Y«  olives,  co<d  and  dim. 
He  knew  \oiir  charms  and  mysteries  I 
Ye  K've,  to  some,  your  halm  and  ease  ; 
Ye  gave  the  Cross  to  Him. 

Ye  skies,  that  hold  the  starry  spell 

Of  Hethleliem's  natal  morn  '. 
The  horror  of  great  darkness  fell. 
When  that  meek  Son  of  Israel 
Suffered  the  death  of  scorn. 

Ye  Streams,  from  your  wild  founts  that 
burst. 
Where  lone  the  wild  deer  sips  ! 
His  own  are  ye  ;  yet,  at  the  worst, 


y.'lis'  'JtrSija  ©f  Ehs  Czczb.    181 

Vf(.,.i,|.    ii,,ts!ak.>  tUv  hitl.i  tliiist 
That  paivlieil  liiM  (lying  lips. 

<>  llolv  l.aiul  :  I  I.M.Ii  „„  i|,„. 

Willi  tearful  ryes  anil  iliiii  : 
Ki«r  rest,  or  for  sfciirit\, 
<'aiist  tliMii  I),,  fair  and  (;.,<,(|  t„  n  p, 

That  dealt  sn  ill   with  IHiii  ? 


^Oui 


TO    MADAM    DKKYKl-S 
WOMAN,  of  the  deathleis  li.vc  I  to  thee 
Our  eyes  adniirin«  turn  ;  rejoiced  to  find 
that  thou  art  of  tlie  brave  and  constant 
Kind, 

Exaltini;  faitli,  even  to  suhliniity  : 
Thy  gentle  Sonl  grows  firm,  that  thou  niayst 

be 
The  prop  on  wliidi  thy  stricken  mate  may  lean- 
Condenmed  to  huddle  with  the  vile  and  mean, 
In  that  low  Island  of  the  troidc  sea. 

Pilgrim,  who  followest  a  knightly  quest, 
Knocking  atgate.s  of  kings  with  tearful  plea, 
For  thy  wronged  consort,  let  thy  suit  prevail; 
Nor  be  the  harsh  and  sordid  world  unblest 
By  such  divine  example,—  seeing  t/,ir. 
With  Truth  and  Justice,  for  thy  Holy  Grail. 


182    ^ihe  liirda  Of  U!I|p  (Sxtim. 


ill 

ill 


nVMN 

SlNIl    AT   TIIK    DkIiK'ATION    OK    MOOIlY    M  K- 
HOHIAI.    tiMAI'KI.,    AT   (illOII-WII.I.    KAIIM, 

Jink    10,    18117. 

AlH,  — ()  lor  ttu   iJiitCf  lh;lt   (Inwi'lll  ilki- ;i  1  i\»i  ' 

/5\S  MOSK.S,  on  tlie  llnly  .Mount  a|i|»:>riiig, 
■X      Kfceiveil  the    iiattmi  "(   Tliinn   ancifiit 
sliriiif, — 
Thy  w<ii<l.  o  Lord  with  awful  rapture  hearing, 
—So  now  we  wait  that  perfect  will  of  Thine. 

Here  now  inspire  us  froniTliy  sacred  Mountain, 
To  which  we  look,  as  if  Thy  face  to  see  ; 

And  consecrate,  out  of  Thy  hearfsdeep  fount- 
ain. 
These  walls  we  raise— a  temple  unto  Thee. 

()  Tliou.  who  sav'stthe  helpless  and  the  lowly, 
The  outcast  Souls  who  gath'rest  to  Thy  fold, 

(iather  them  here.Thnii  gracious  One,  and  holy! 
And  let  their  tearful  eyes  Thv  love  heluild. 

Here  come  to  youthful  Souls  with  Thy  salva- 
tion: 
Here  let  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise  arise; 
Here  shape  the  stones  for  Thy  snhlime  fnun- 
datiftn — 
That  Temple  Thou  art  rearing  in  the  skies. 

How   frail   our  work,    however   wrought  and 
gilded  ! 
Transient  onr  lives,  where  all  is  insecure  : 
Lord  !  ill  the  House  Thy  g'nrions  Hand  hath 
buil(<ed 
May  we  behold  tlie  things  that  shall  endure! 


®f  Sfjf  fil-VBZ.      18,*^ 


Cao;(KI).ii;mt:  oi.rist,  wI,,,  o 

(^\\  I..,  til  s  «„rld-s  great  hiirdei 
—'We  are  l.,st  if  Thou  -l.spaim 


nnisTj-:. 


SAC/:/.-  .//:sr.  c.u,-/: 

who  oar»st 

11  lirarrst, 
.,-jrrst 
At  iiiir  sin'g  (li    (,  dye  : 

Love  iinriieasiired.  I,<.ve  iiiitiritiK, 
Cursed  l,,v  Souls  of  Tliy  desiring.' 
«>n  the  Cr.  vs  for  Man  e.x|,iriiij-,_ 

■Srti  .1,1;  hi  iir  iiitr  rrii  .' 
With  Thv  wan  brow's  saddest  seeniinjf, 
With  Thy  precious  blood  down-streamine  - 
Hallowed  Mood  for  our  redeeming  ;_ 

We  beliold  Thee  n'   h  ' 
ny  Thy  thorns.  Thy  m    .  de.p-drlyen, 
By  that  cry  that  pierces  Heaven, 
Ky  rent  veil,  and  tomb  wide  riven, 
Sdviiir,  hi  nr  our  rri/  .' 
'  Bitter  cup,  and  bloody  passion- 
Utmost  Love'H  sublime  expression- 
Let  them  be  for  our  salvation,— 

Do  not  pass  us  by  ! 
By  the  might  that  did  retrieve  Thee 
Hy  the  Heaven  that  did  receive  Thee, 
By  the  crowns  the  ransomed  weave  Thee, 

S'rtrior,  hear  our  orii  ! 
Sacred  Jesu  !  Love,  ascended  ! 
Scorn  and  Cross  and  Conflict  ended  ; 
High  enthroned,  and  angel-tended,-^ 

Monarch  of  the  Sky  : 
V%  ho,  when  Thou  art  interceding. 


184    i!|i?  Itr&a  0f  it!"?  ®ro!SB, 


r'i 


1    I-' 


Can  resist  Thy  lips'  sweet  pleadms,- 
Advocate,  wl.ose  wounds  are  bleeding.— 

.SVuwo/-,  hxir  our  cr)/  .' 
Sacred  Jesns  I  Christ,  who  carest  ! 
Still  our  mortal  way  Thou  farest, 
btiU  with  us  the  Cross  Thon  bearest. 

That  on  iis  n\ust  lie  : 
Drive  our  darkness,  heal  <>nr  pining, 
Lucent  Stir  of  Morning,  shining  '. 
Glorious  Sun,  no  more  declining  ! 

Saviof,  hrar  <inr  it;/.' 

HARMONY  HALL 

Ou  The  Sbx's  Estkrprisk.. 

BEAD  AT  THE  DEDICATION  OF  THE  OLD  LNI- 

VEUSALIST  CIIUKCH,    AT    HAMPDEN 

HIOIILANDS,    WHKS  IT  HAD 

BEEN  REVAMPED  AND 

RECIIBISTKNEI). 

TUST  above  the  Tenobscofs  circuitous  tide 
•  @J  Is  a  famous  old  Town,  where  some  Ladies 
^^  reside  : 

The  same  have  been  busy,  and  issue  their  call 
To  enter  and  dedicate  Harmony  Hall. 

This  place  was  called  Hampden,  so  I  have  been 

told. 
For  a  warrior  doughty  and  patriot  bold. 
Who,  when  haughty  King  Charlie  stepped  over 

the  line, 
Erected  his  back-bone,  (  more  properly,  spine. ) 


Wns  MuM  i§f  Ehe  ^xvbb.    185 


Soon  was  headless,  this  tyrant,  so  faitl.l»-ss  and 
sit-fk  : 

Yet  not  so,  t\m  Ladies,  of  wlioni  we  liert- speak; 

For  in  all  sorts  .,f  ways,  and  in  all  sorts  of  wea- 
ther. 

One  scarcely  conid  ni,.ve  hnt  tliey  all  moved  to- 
gether. 

In  this  Town  stood  a  Clmrch,-it  is  standing 
here  still,— 

A  landmark,  soon  spied  on  the  brow  of  the  hill; 

Hilt  with  it  01,f  Time  had  such  liberty  taken 

That  by  (iod  and  by  Man  it  seemed  almost  for- 
saken. 

It  was  bniltby  that  sect— so  the  wisacres  tell— 

Who  wonld  fain  have  abolished  the  Devil  and 
Ilell  ;  , 

But  the  Methodists  prayed  so,  and  sang  so,  and 
shouted. 

That  they  all  were  diimfonnded  and  thorough- 
ly routed. 

To  silence  and  dust  were  left  pulpit  and  pew  ; 

The  <dd  walls  grew  dingy.thespirewentaskew 
The  weeds  grew  around  it  unhindered  galore. 
And  bushes  grew  u  p  thro'  tlie  steps  by  the  door. 

The  brnVen-back  ridge-pole  was  seen  to  be  sag" 
Bins  ; 

The  pews  were  old-timers,  the  carpet  was  rag- 
King  ;  " 

The  windows  were  broken,  waxed  dusty,  the 
panes. 

And  the  plaster  showed  traces  of  down-leak- 
ing rains. 


'*U 


4r 
11 


186    HtF  ItrBiB  ®f  ^¥  ©CTsa. 


' 


I  -I 


1«i!J 


I*   . 


Ii!i 


The  fast-rotting  belfry  was  tlireateiiinp  to  fall; 
Grown  silent,  the  bell  never  issued  its  call  ; 
Then  upn.se  the  Fathers  :    "T!  is  thine  must 

come  down, 
Nor  longer  disgrace  and  disfigure  the  town. 

And  sometimes  the  Methodist  Preaclier  looked 

glum. 
When  folk  from  abroad  were  beginn  i  ng  to  come. 
And,  getting  astray  in  tlieir  dubious  search. 
Mistook   tfifif   old   thing  for     the    Methodist 
Church  ! 

Then  the  Ladies  in  Council  began  to  convene  : 

Now  a  different  order  of  tilings  may  be  seen  ; 

For  "  Villarie  Imprnvrmnit"  impregnates 
the  air. 

And  they  will  not  demolish,  but  build  and  re- 
pair. 

Where  a  will  has  been  found  there  is  surely  a 

way  ; 
And  if  something  be  doing,  and  doing  to-day. 
It  is  certain  that  something  will  shortly  bedone : 
Then  up  1  In  a  jiffy  the  work  is  begun  ! 

To  straighten  the  crooked  and  make  the  dull 

shine. 
Now  joiners  and  painters  and  masons  combine; 
They  cut  down  expenses,  to  make  the  thing  go, 
— The  men  will  work  cheaply  tor  women,  you 

know  ! 

Now,  look  all  around  yon — the  thing  is  done 
brown ! 


ffii-V  ItjrSa  (if  ®Ifp  (®ra02.    187 


U  is  taking  the  pl„w  from  all  sp„ts  of  tlie  town ' 
Who  would  ihink  that  th,  «.„;„o,-Koine  in' 
■m     ,  ,  lilt  or  miss,—  ^ 

Would  ever  turn  o,,t  „  .pUk-xpan  „,i„,,,  uu, 
thin  ! 

Now  they  ve  garnished  tlie  walls,  and  hung  pic- 

tures thereon  ; 
Now  they've  straightened  the  belfry  andcleared 

up  tlie  lawn  : 
"  Y,:xLm,rta,iHwH  ."•  the  moss-backs  are  mut- 
„    ,  tering  still  ; 

Hut    ^^the„   IHK\,.'.   in-   just    while   they 
were  saying,    "  Wk  wim,  !  " 

For  the  women  are;,ro;./,«^,,_and  so  it  is  true 

Tliey  should  all  share  the  prnfil,,  now  this  is 

put  through  : 

They  had/«j7/,,  to  begin  with,  and  «orA-.,  at 

the  close  ; 
And  they  smiled  at  all  gainsay ing,-„„f/er  Me 

rose  ! 

A  day  was  appointed— that  time  of  the  year 
vVhen  started  Miss  Anthony's  mortal  career  • 

They  made  their  arrangements,and  issued  their 
call 

To  enter  and  dedicate  Harmony  IIai.l. 

To  tell  the  plain  truth  should  not  be  an  affront- 
Some  things  women  iviU  do,  and  some  things 

they  ti'onU  !  " 

The  "grab-bag,"  the  "shake-down,"  the  bo t- 

tie  and  ball 
Shall  never  edge  in  to  Ihin  Harmonv  Hali 


188    il{i?  lirte  ®f  iti?  ^i-nm. 


No  hot  party-!  pciutcr  sliall  stand  cm  tliislloor. 
No  dwaler  in  ilngma  CDtiic  in  tliio'  ttiis  df.or. 
No  railerat  creeds  or  ndigion  be  heard 
From  tliis  liaiidsoiue  platform  to  utter  a  word. 

But  brotliers  and  sisters  who  work  for  reform 
Shall  find  the  house  liglited,  and  feel  the  seats 

warm  ; 
Shall  singeranii  lecturer  l.ither  repair. 
And  these  walls  shall  reecho  the  sermon  and 

prayer. 

So  here  we  all  are,  and  the  feast  is  begun  : 
Walk  in— you  are  welcome,  each  daughter  and 

son  ! 
Our  joy  should  be  great,  and  ourcourace  not 

small 
For  this  is  the  birthday  of  Harmony  IIai.i.. 

So  here's  to  the  Ladies  in  Hampden  who  dwell. 
Whose  deeds  these  rough  verses  endeavor  to 

tell  : 
Long  raay  their  brothers  respond  to  their  call. 
And  long  may  theyflourish  in  Harmony  Hall! 

CELESTIAL  CAPERS 

WROTE   FOB  YK   nELECTATION   OF    MYNE 

INFANTE. 

O^HAT  old  cantankerous  warrior.  Mars, 
^) Harried  the  planets,  and  raided  tlie  stars; 
^^  And  all  because  he  meddled  with  Venus, 
And  said,  "  Let  us  have  a  kiss  between  us," 
And  she  thought,  "  We  might— if  no  one  sren 


iiK  lirda  ®f  il|p  ©roisa.    189 

S.'ie  f.-lt  sii  li  secrery  became  her, 
An.i  flidnt  suspect  slie  was  off  lier  Braminar. 
lint  .>^'.l  got  up  and  tried  to  st-.p  her. 
Declaring  such  deeds  to  he  verj  in>proper  ; 
Wliile  Mars  raved  round,  as  mad  as  a  liopper. 

lie  was'nt  able  for  monstrous  .lupiter, 

For  »n  his  sizzling  and  frying  ; 
Hut  as  for  Karth,  lie  made  a  scoop  at  her, 
And  sent  the  old  beldame  tlying  ;_ 
Who  -itc^ppedon  the  youngest  of  her  daughters, 
While  she  wept  away  the  last  of  her  waters 
And  cracked  her  head  into  four  quarters. 
"  Oh  I  let  us  get  out  of  the  road ! "  cried  Uranus 
"Or  else  this  murderous  demon  will  brain  us  ' 

For  thereoouldnt  be  much  more  dust  in  the  air 
If  the  Hull  were  loose,  or  the  bigger  Hear  ! " 
As  that  good  matron,  old  Mother  Saturn, 
Was  feeding  her  fine  little  moons, 
He  at  them  came  tiying,and  set  them  all  crying, 

And  dirtied  their  new  pantaloons. 
This  matter  is  foul,  that  here  I  an.  stating, 
And  it  surely  was  most  exasperating! 

This  Aiars  was  in  for  a  nasty  Job  : 

It  was  very  rough  of  him,— 

Had  there  hein  enough  of  h'm. 
You  might  have  called  him  a  Moo>,n>,'  mob  ■ 
And  then,  before  you  could  get  him  to  cease 
1  oil  might  have  to  call  in  the  Celestial  Police 
But,  for  one  person,  (  if  you  donU  think  so,  try 
It .  ) 


»*'; 


190    itfe 


M  iliif  CEroaa. 


He  was  able  to  kick  up  a  dcure  i>f  a  rii.t. 
lie  took  the  Fish  by  liis  golden  ttiliper; 
He  broke  the  handle  oil  the  Dipper  ; 
He  snatched  the  (Jreat  Dog's  best  !>onefroni  it. 
And  made  it  so  sick  that  it  had  to  vomit  ; 
Then  lie  pulled  tlie  tail  clean  out  ot  a  Comet; 
He  broke  the  strings  of  the  magic  Lyre, 
And  set  the  straw  in  the  Wain  on  tire; 
He  splashed  about  in  the  Milky  Way, 
And  acted  like  one  quite  "  over  the  bay,''— 
That  manner,  irregular  and  fliglity. 
The  frequent  result  of  Aqim   Vi1<i<  ; 
—He  was  run  quite  mad  with  his  fumes  and  va- 
pors, 
And  was  cutting  up  all  these  nasty  capers. 
When  suddenly  up  came  his  wise  old  father, 
And  held  him,  with  sundry  jerks  and  pitches. 
By  the  hair  of  his  head  and  tlie  slack  of  his 

breeches; — 
Saying  that  he  would  a  little  rather 
Th;  tall  such  mettlesome  young  sky-scrapers 
Would  quit  a  cutting  their  nasty  capers. 
With  that  he  took  him  across  his  knee, 
And  laid  on  the  ili)i</-l,at»~0  »  e—y  yr  o— 

THREE  :  ! 

Do  you,  too.  Sonny,  kick  up  stars, 

And  behave  ridiculously. 
Till  your  Papa  serves  you  as  i?ol  did  Mars, 

And  takes  you  over  his  knee  '! 


®Ifi?  lir&a  (if  ®Ifif  ©rojaa.    191 


■'ijl 


(iUlUA.MA(; 

THK    I.riTI.l.:    MANcm  KIAN    I'Ot.Y   OWNKI) 

AND    I  BED   IIY    M       SON,    WHILE  A  DEN- 

TAI,    I'HAUTniONKK    AT    HANKOW, 

CHINA. 


\J© 


J\KI-L,  Dr.  James,  what  is't  ye  lack  ' 
'1  need  a  horse Illliave  (iuidaniac, 

— Just  (illlllAMAC  .' 

A  dainty  pony— no  shambling  liack  • 
A  steed  of  merit,  is  (iuidaniac. 

A  beauty,  liey  ?— Your  white  or  black 
Lan  hohi  no  candle  to  (iuidaniac! 
He  won  a  purse  on  tlie  fancy  track  — 
Hut  1h„t  days  over,  witli  (iuidaniac. 
My  own  (food  maff,„*  be  not  slack 
lo  bring  from  h^s  stable,  Guidaniac. 
Bndle,  saddle  and  haversack- 
Here  ill  a  jiffv  is  Guidamao  ! 
I  made  him  slick  as  a  bran  new  placque- 
Here,  Master  mine,  is  your  (inidamac! 
Steady  !  tlie  while  I  mount  his  back  • 
Then  off  at  a  canter,  goes  (iuidaniac. 
Look,  you : . .  Jolin  Chinaman  I-Good  lack  ' 
lr,u  must  clear  the  hiwrl  t  for  Guidamac! 

That  .V//,7,  }  looks  as  if  he  might  hit  me  a 

whack  : 
Stay  !    Don't  you  touch  my  Guidamac  ! 

*    1  Mafo  |_a  Chinese  hostler, 
frlni!  1"^  l';'"f 'P-''  '.horout-hfare  of  an  Oriental  city,  which 
.ro'oMe  latt"::"'''  "^  ^"'"l''"*-    This  :ilways^i,o„n -s 

CSC  t'relftvl.on.f."'"  '"''"'"  P""™'"'".  employed  i„  Chin- 


192    WCfS  SirSia  ®f  il|ip  ©waa. 


^' 


r\i 


li!'*'' 


See  those  ratiyneil^  fellows,  witli  piBtaiU 

blauk; 
Why,  tliey're  liitclied  witli  halters,  (iiiula- 

niac  ! 

Fuiinh!  Thisisa'-.<r)^-'.v  straw-built  shack' 
We  iiiijst  hold  I'lir  iioses,  (inidaniac  \ 

The  pools  are  green,  and  the  filth  is  black, — 
See  the  pigs  with  the  cliildren,  (iuiilainac  I 

Here  men  grow  brutes  '.  .See  tliat  monstrous 

pack 
On  a  woman's  slioulders,  (iiiidamac  ! 

Life,  fall  n  xo  Unr  .'—What  gibberish-clack  ! 
Here  horses  are  gentleiv.en,  (iiiidamac  I 

Three  times  three,  r.Mind   the  grand   race- 
track ; 
Then  home  at  a  gallop,  goes  (Wiidaijiac. 

What  ails  the  beast ! —Wont  he  stop?— 

Alack  ! 
You've  run  down  a  ntiolir,  Guiihimac  ! 

On,  by  the  Yang-tze's  yellow  trai-k. 
Past  hut  and  pagoda,  goes  (Juidaniac. 

U(ili !  ugh .' — Why,  my  very  hnnm  vou  rack  \ 
Stiff.'— soref—O !/on  drafted  Giiidnmnc! 

Here,  my  good  mdfffi,  I'm  used  up  1 — Hack, 
For  a  month,  to  liis  stable  with  (iuidamac  I 

§     Chincst-  petty  Cliiiiinals.  cond  ■iiined  tn  wcil'  :l  wood- 
en colliir,  called  a  caiij^ue. 


Uhs  -Jsrda  m  mti$  ©rsaia.     193 


DOCTOK    HOUIN 


■~-  ^1  -II,  I.I,  r.f  u,l,| 
':  MV«|.  h;l\  illU  tnr 
I    ;i    111,.     r:|l..|lul  Ilill, 


r|)OI!TII    ..IIP  ..veiiiiij;,  lient  „„  raneinc, 
T-  ^V  li.'M  U inter  int..  Sprint  was  dianpinir 
I  went.— witli  blues  still  .leepei  bineinp, 
An.l  all  the  glK.sts  of  niylit  pnisnine  : 
Till..-    \;,rilr|.,n(ls  tlie  sun  was  hreaking,-- 
Hiit,  Oil.   my  liead-niy  liead  was  acliing  : 
My  feet  were  cold,  my  ears  were  ringing;— 
When  DocTOK  Koiiin  set  np  singing  : 
"()  clie-e-i-np,  c'lieer  '. 

See  liere  '.     .See  liert!  I 
What  is  the  matter— what  is  tlie  matter. 
Tliat  you  are  so  ghim,  and  not  any  fatter  V 
Wliat  is  it— what  is  it '.' 
Is  it  phtliisic?  Is  it  phthisic '■ 
h'rri  •//„  -r-ll}-r--illl  — fl<  ,,;■•:, il-j, I,  ;i-^:,-/.,    .' " 

"  Donoii  :  "  I  cried,  "  In  an  ahysm 

I'm  plunged- of gout  and  rheumatism: 

I've  meningitis  and  paresi.s, 

And  half  a  sore  of  dread  diseases  : 


if 

i 

! 

?♦ 

j 

Ml  ) 

! 

194    ®tfif  MuM  (if  iiff  CEroaa. 


Dysptipsia,  and  cnnsuuiption,  too, 
My  hesitating  steps  pursue  ; 
Slow  fever  to  my  blood  is  '•""."in),';— " 
But  DocTOK  KoniN  kept  on  singliig  : 

"()  clie-e-er-np,  cheer  '. 
See  here  I    See  here  '. 
What  is  the  matter— what  is  tlie  matter, 
That  you  are  so  glum,  and  not  any  fatter? 
What  is  it— what  is  it  ? 
Is  it  phthisic  ?    Is  it  phthisic  ? 
Keel-'im—t!uri-'i>n-!/e<re-'hn-i)fii/-isicl:r  .'" 

"No,  sir  !  however  you  may  watch  me. 
So  napping  you  shall  never  catch  me  1 
Throw  physio  to  the  dogs  and  fishes," 
I  said,  with  many  pKluiwn  \  and  /linhes  ! 
"  Besides,  (  himself  each  mortal  pleases,) 
I  like  my  own  few  pet  diseases  ; 
Worse  am  I,  alway,  by  my  notion. 
For  every  pesky  pill  or  potion 
The  doctor  or  the  nurse  are  bringing  ;  — '' 
While  DocroH  KouiN  still  kept  singing  : 

"  O  che-e-r-upcheer  ! 
See  here  !    See  here  ! 
What  is  the  matter — what  is  the  matter, 
That  you  are  so  glum,  and  not  any  fatter  ? 

What  is  it — what  is  it  ? 
Is  it  phthisic  ?   Is  it  phthisic  1 
Keel-' i m—i' nri'.-'im, — geeve-'im-phy-sicke  .'" 


■;j  « 


^ 


Slfff  lirJiB  m  ^Ijf  ®r000.    195 

"Well,  •, aid  I,  yielding,  "cease  your  jibing, 
And  presently  begin  prescribing." 
"I  will,"  said  Doctor  Bon,  benignly  : 
"Abstain  from  swrit^  thatdrink  r/Zi/Mf/u  ' 
Take  three  bread  pills,  upon  retiring  ;    '  ' 
Use  one  old  saw  until  perspiring  ; 
Your  sulky  spleen  remember  never, 
And  do  not  overload  your  liver  ■ 
When  in  tbe  morning  round  you  potter, 
Drink  one  g<od  quart  of  clear  cold  water  ; 
Take  exercise,  up  to  the  letter, 
And  in  a  fortnight  you'll  be  better. 
Wood  day,  sad  Sir,— my  way  Ini  winging  ; 
But  first  III  take  my  pay  in  singing  : 
"  <)  che-e-er-up,  cheer  ! 

See  here  !    See  here  ! 
What  is  the  matter— what  is  the  matter. 
That  you  are  so  glum,  and  not  any  fatter  ? 

What  is  it  V    What  is  it  ? 
Is  it  phthisic  ?  Is  it  phthisic  ? 
K'ecl-Um~.ciire.'im.,~gecvc-'im-ph}/-sieke."' 

CANT. 

/?>RIES  Johnson,—"  Clear  your  mind  of 
\^  cant ;" 

—A  caution  most  significant 

Of  that  philosopher,  indeed  ; 
And  one  to  which  the  wisest  may  take  heed. 

But  'tis  a  task  that  must  require 

Such  vigilance  as  will  not  tire  ; 


H : 


^l\ 


196    CJi*  MifchB  ©f  %^rs  fSimee. 


\t'. 


]    :; 


For.  tliouuli  \oiir  iiuiitHl  liiiisf  iiav  lit" 
Oft  swfptaiul  n»iiiislit-il,  mill  iiiitiU-  fnp. 
The  l>aiiislittl  ilnst  >i'ii  cm. Ml  Imrn, 
Tlitf  scvi'iifiilil  Unii.ii  may  icliirn. 
And  (trmniis  rint.  ami  liirci'  passii.iis  liiirn. 

Wlii'ii  man  shall  with  tin-  Miakf  heiiin 
Til  shitigh  awa.v  his  annual  skin  : 
When  Miiiital  e>is.  |iiiri'  ns  t\\v  hliif 
l"nfli>inleil  heaven,  see  all  thiniis  line  ; 
When  Uias,  I'lejmlice,  nml  Jjiaj- 
liearii  Bigi'try  a'c  ilnne  a.vay  ; 
When  Diigiiia  liiilils  no  longer  sway  : 
WI.en  NBiirotis  .shall  cease  ti>  rant'; 
Then  may  we  wli'illy  clear  niir  nilnil  uf  cant. 

Even  ,Ii>hnsiin°s  {n  iiilerinis  intellect 
Cant  could  occasionally  infect, 
When,  of  his  circle  chief,  the  Cham 
Portentous  frowned, where  lie  would  damn; 
And  all  the  good,  and  all  the  preat. 
Must  tiiid  their  [lortiiin,  soon  or  late 
Look  down  the  Pantheon's  statned  aisle  : 
Darkens  the  gnomon  of  Carlyle  ; 
Lightens  Voltaire's  most  witheriiip  smile: 
Majestic  (ioethe  stands  aloof. 
In  love  with  silence  ;  Swift,  forsooth, 
Disinterested  zeal  professes  ; 
And  Hums  Hypocri-^y  undresses  ; 
Ibsen  uplifts  the  arm  of  Thor, 
To  smite  and  ban  what  priestcraft  bles- 
ses ; 


II  r 


^f  iiMsH.    197 


<  Kiitan.l  |.ret,.,Ke  f|,ev  all  al.l.>,r  ■ 

llut,  wl,il.t|,^ytl,„,Hl...«««i„st('ant 
rii.ir,.w„  peculiar  kind  tli.v  vaunt  • 
A.„l  wl,.f  N  ilie  iM,aK--br,.aker,  say' 
\\>ll  fr...,.  his  f,.ticl,  wl.olly  l.rnak  away  ? 

I)h:si>at(,ii 

KU..M   O.    SKK    llc,rr,K,   OK   Ilm..K VVIM.K. 


^ 


K  SKN  i    lip  I, is  card. 
And  fcilldwed  it  liaid  : 
ll«aii|»ared  in  tlir  study, 
With  a  faoe  full  and  ruddy  ; 
With  l>rusqufriessand  hrains 
Krpsh  in  from  the  trains  ; 
With  nioustaclit  and  whisker.— 

A  lark  is  not  brisker  ; 

WItli  a  fcig  burly  body, 

And  a  slij;ht  smell  of  todd;'  : 

RoiiKli,  storky,  tbick-chfsted,— 

He  burst  into  the  study,— 

This  man  from  the  West,  did. 

"  How  are  you,  old  pard  ? 

Come,  now.  let  us  shako  : 

I  have  come  up  to  make 

To  yoi  my  regard  ; 

B'or  the  •'  /latiuit-  HHi  r 

Hush."  much  I  admire — 

I  heard  it  from  Lizzie  :— 

Now,  1  see  tliat  you're  busy,-  - 

And  busy  am  I, — 

So,  I'll  bid  y'  good-bye  : — 


m 


M ! . 
ii! 


198    il|e  ltrd0  ®f  il|if  ®roaa- 


I've  no  time  t'  talk  f  vf, 
Because— di. n't  y'  see, 
I'm  booked  n"W,  to  be 
Hiyht  off  .for  DniiHtochiy  '. 
How  are  ye  ?— I'm  prime  : 
— 'Tis  a  cosy,  sn\ig  den  1— 
Well,  ■  ■  xo  loiif/  '■  ■  .  ■  Sometime 
I  may  run  in  again  1  " 
And  so,  witli  a  laugb, 
He  straightway  was  off  ; 
And  the  leisurely  Ian 
M'Laren,  r:  plying 
To  the  tingling  air. 
And  the  empty  oliair, 
Said  :  "  Good  Sir,  thanks  to  ijoii 
For  this  kind  interview  ! 
I  think  I  may  do— 
By  just  moving  yonr  way,— 
Double  duty  to-day." 

WHAT   RIGHT? 

T  T(S\IIAT  right  have  I  to  feast,  while  others 
\Jri  starve  ? 

^  What  right  to  reign,   while  others  toil 
and  serve  V 
What  right,  to  radiant  hopes  and  raptures  rare, 
While  others  faint  in  dungeons  of  despair  ? 


iH  II 


Mbi-  Muha  (§f  ilfp  fflroaa.    199 


•JOHN  HAY. 

^\D  is  l,e  gone,  wliose  diplomatic  pei, 
-a-      v\  ,tli  gracious  message  and  d.cision  just 
"=>'l«"'-<'d  ll,e  jealous  nations ofriistrust 
Had  won  Catliay,  and  n.ade  the  warlike  men 
Of  Dai  \ippon  hold  us  in  their  ken, 

With  that   respect  which  Truth  alone  may 

know  ? 
Who  but  must  mourn  to  seeour  Aeneasgo'- 
Brother  of  Man,  and  nr blest  Citizen  : 

His  were  the  Virtues,  liis,  the  (i.aces   too  • 
Firm  planted  he  his  feet  in  Honors  way  '• 
«entle,    his  heart,    his   hand-who   felt   them 
knew  : 
The  Statesman's  Art  was  his,  thel'oet's  Lay 
Of  such  as  he  the  Land  he  loved  has  few  - 
Ah  !  would  I  hat  such  might  make  a  longer 
stay  : 

<iOirs  ALCHEMY. 

fOW   wondrous  is  (iod's   alchemy  1     How 
His  hand  creative  to  perfection's  mark  ' 
The  process  of  the  sunshine  and  the  dew  ; 
The  process  of  the  silence  and  the  dark  ' 


200 


wiiriiia  (if  'i»iijr  4*raaa. 


ih 


\*u 


TIIK   MKN  OK   MAINE, 

READ    AT    A    I'AMl'-KIRK    AT    IIAMl'DKN,    MAINE. 

T  TgNHKN   War's  red  Dragon  rent  tlie  Land, 
\KJ     A"d  '^''t  tlif  warrior's  heart  allanie  ; 
When,  at  I'dliinibia's  dread  ci.niniand, 
Her  cliihlren  to  defend   lier  came  ; 
Wlien,  hastening  from  the    Kast  and  West, 

Tri  cheek  the  rebel  Ixiastiiif;  vain. 
On  to  the  front  her  armies  pressed, -- 
T/iry,  too,  weretliere— theMK.x  ok  Maine! 

When  (Gettysburg's  now  storied  field 
In  dreadtnl  splendor  saw  theiiav. 

And  patriot  liearts  tliat  wo\ilil  not  yield— 
A  myriad  -bled  t?ieir  lives  away  ; 

When  at  Antietatn  brave  men   sealed 
Their  faith  and  courage  'mid  the  slain. 

And  Union  prowess  stood  rev<aled.— 

7'/(<.i/,too,  were  there     the  Mi:n  oi-  Maine! 

Shiloh  tliey  knew,  and  Malvern  Flill, 

And  Lookout  AL)nntains  summit  high. 
And  the  dark  Wilderness,  that  still 

Seems  to  resound  War's  dreadful  cry  ; 
Bull  Run   Chantilly,  Kenesaw, 

With  many  a  fiery  liill  and  plain, — 
Scenes  lit  to  fill  the  Soul  witli  awe. — 

And  l/i<\i/  were  there— the  Men  okM  aineI 

Where,   downward    marching,   Sherman's 
men 
Sought  freedom  by  the  cliaiuless  Sea  ; 
Where  sped  the  horse  of  Slieridan, 


®Itp  Itrfta  m  ©Ijp  cSroaa.    201 


Who  turned  defeat  t..  victory  • 

"'''""   S,"""'"'   ""    "■•"'  '■""tchless 

With  conquering  »l,.,nder  in  ),is  train, 
r'llallh.sfo»swer„,„,ttoflig|,t 

Where  FarraKnt.  thr,/  .storn.s  of  lire 
>>wept  safe,  as  only  sail   tl,e  hrave  : 

V^ere  he,  ,vhomKentle  hearts  adn,ire. 
Hold  (.raven,*  sank  beneatl,  the  wave  • 

Where  Southern  waters  sang  their  song ' 
•And   answering  in  thnnd'rons  strain 

"-rt  Hudson's  guns  roared  lond  and  long- 
They  too  werethere-the  MenokJUink' 

''''"''.""''♦■  ^t-"^''!  brave  men  shed, 

'"satearof  love  ami  pride 
t'-rmen  who,   unto  Honor  wed 

I.Ike  Sidney,  grandly  fought  and  died  • 
T.Mjyd.edforal,;    Kaoh  glorious  one 

Sl.al    yet  the  hearts  of  all  constrain  • 
For   wher    the  noblest  deeds  were  done. 
l.tE^t>     werethere-theJlKNoFMAiNK' 


but  Cravtii  steniu'd  h'if  L  ..    V"  V',""  ""■ 


I'.',V'''"'---.Kcai„s„v 
"ent  down  with  his  crew. 


.J! 


u    I     'i 


202    SIfif  "MvhB  ®J  mhf  ffiroaa. 


When,  ill  the  yeRrs  tii  onnie,  the  thiiiie. 

Of  Freedrims  Pantheon,  lifted  high, — 
Fairer  than  that  nf  cdnqiieriiig  Konie. — 

tihall  glitter  'neath  mir  Northern  sk>, 
Their  names,  inscrilted  in  living;  li^lit, 

Shall  on  its  mightv  wall  remain  : — 
There,  first  among  the  Sons  of  Might, 

Shall  t/iei/  befoiind—  the  .M  i:n  ok  M  aink  1 


H 


I 


SONNKT 

UPON  SEEING  THE  AMERICAN  KI.AG  I)ISI'T,AYKD 
TOOETHEK  WITH  THE  BANNER  OF  ENGI.A  Ml. 

fMUSE,  while  now  yon  Symbol  1  survey. 
Floating  nntramelledon  the  bree/e  of  morn. 
With  one  that  charmed  me  in  mine  earlier 
day — 
That  happy  Flag  whereunder  1  was  born  1 
How  blest  the  day  !    That  banner  twinned  ap- 
pears,— 
To  put  the  troubled  nations  all  at  ease. — 
With  one  which  proudly  for  'a  thousand  years  " 
Hath  borne  and    'braved  the   battle  and   tlie 
breeze  I  ' 

In  love  together  l?t  them  ride  the  seas  ! 
Then  Freedom   may  her  starry  front  iiprear  : 
And,  hand  in  hand,  the  peaceful  Destinies 
Shall  enter  on  their  nndistnibed  career  ; — 
Bearers  of  blessing  unto  all  mankind. 
In  everlasting  amity  conjoined. 


ffiif?  MkM  mi  ®fft  dmm.    203 


KVEN   TUKKE  : 

}N  TUE  disiiial-tliroated  crater 
Of  Vesuvius,  'tis  said, 
Oiite  a  (lower— little  frater  ■— 
.v.-J"f'^  "''  ''"  '''•ai'teous  head 
■Mid  tlie  asli  and  scoria  springing 
Cheerful  as  a  sweet  bird  'inginc^' 
In  some  desert  of  the  dead. 

Ah  ;  this  world  has  many  places 

Uncongenial  and  wild 
Wjiereyou  flml  sweet  upturned  faces 
Lonely  as  tlie  flower  that  sniileS      ' 
In  the  bosom  of  the  crater- 
Cheering  some  forlorn  spectator  — 
SspeakinK  <'f  the  great  Creator,     ' 
And  his  presence  with  His  child 


ROOSEVELT. 


'r^HE  man  I  lK'"Or  who  respects  his  kind 

^  Whn.l"^-i^""'  "'u'"*"'-  "racnlar,  and  free- 
Whose  will  is^might  ;   the  orbit 'of  'hose' 

Holds  him  to  justice  and  humanity. 

MY  CONTENT. 
T  TSJIIEN  I  stretch  my  feet  to  the  rocks  the 
^^Wh      T',^-  "'  "'■"■'"g  whitens,  ^ 

^^       ^'%re'e':wl3rade"'^«™""'"*^« 
Let  some  -jnny^tomejhat  with  faerie  fancy 

Let  some  sample  Book  of  Song  in  my  hands 

Something  curious,  quaint,  and  sweet. 
Writ  by  Burton,  Browne,  or  Lamb  ; 


204    ®te  Mum  (§f  Whs  ®oaa. 


fii 


i   fg 


. ! 


* 


■ 


thongs  of  Ulakt",  tlie  paraclete, 
And  whitest  Soul  of  London  street  ; — 
Let  me  some  lov'd  strain  repeat, 
Where  like  the  ivavesare  fancies  lleet; 
Where  the  Real, 
And  the  Ideal, 

With  Love,  at  Nature's  altar  meet: 

Tlien  content  1  surely  am! 


W" 


DOWN  IN   MAINE. 

AT    is  there  down    in  Maine?     Why, 
skies  as  blue 
As  blue  can  be  ;  sunshine  in  Summer 
falling 
Like  golden  rain  ;  tlie  voice  of  Ocean  calling 
"  Come,  ye  who  love  me,  to  my  arms  again  !" 
Bold  Eden  lifts  her  mount  above  the  main  ; 
Iler  island  fastness  holds  a  thousand  bean- 
ties  ! 
And  never  Nature-loving  Spirit  mute  is 
Where  King  Katahdin  holds  his  forest-reign, 
'  Mid  his  attendantwoods  and  lakes  and  streams. 
Yea,  down  in  Maine  is  many  a  sheltered  nook. 
And  moss-grown  farm-house,  and  lone  fish- 
er's cot  ; 
And  many  a  flowery  field  and  garden  teems 
With  fragrance  ; — ay,  and  many  a  rambling 

brook 
(Joes  musically,  like  a  happy  thought. 


SJfi?  Strta  (if  ©ifjp  ®roaa.    205 


TO    TITMAKSH. 

}A.M  with  you,  dear  Tit  ' 
When  at  dinner  you  sit 

Let  there  be  a  plate  for  me  : 
I<>   the  money  I  horn,. 
i  II  heat  that  «„;irr,/' 
'"■"""•'■•''■  at  table  at  Mitre  Court  H. 

TIIK  AUTOCItATICAL  CRITIC. 
^HK  autocratic  Critic  I  detest, 
^CS;  W ho  snarls  upon  you,  if  y„u  do  but  lest 

Who  means  to  blan.e,  and  wHh  a  Vi'l  'se- 
Will  ''^'■''> 

W.Il  scourge  a  breaking  sigh,  a  falling  tear. 

THE  MOUNTAIN   PINE. 

©If"  this  virtue  could  be  mine- 
'\urseHT^1°?'"'  *'"<"'toin  Pine  ! 
Nursed  by  the  tempest,  should  I  fear 
(-r.m  March,  the  savage,  the  austere  ? 
Nay.  God  hath  bidden  it  abide 
Pirm-anohored  to  the  mountain  side  • 
*ed  It  on  Are  and  frost  -ah  !  then 
It  prospered  with  its  regimen  !      ' 
May  I  be  as  the  Mountain  Pine 
Formed  in  (Jod's  mold,  to  Natures  line 
With  nurturing  chemic  suns  to  shed       ' 
f  heir  alchemy  upon  its  head  • 

with  hil\-°  '"'"'^  "»  •'"'■g''^  «™one, 
With  haunting  songs  to  memory  suni 

And  b^r?'  '"■"•^'  '"  loiterin/strSf 
And  bear  its  sweetness  far  away. 


M 


206 


tie  if  rsBH. 


t! 


:!i» 


Il 


(irand  was  it  for  tlie  Mountain  I'in«  '. 
It  saw  tlie  stars  at  nii(lnif>lit  sliine  : 
The  giant  i'owers  tliat  nmld  its  (urtn 
Descended  in  tlie  la^int;  storm  ; 
Tlie  wrestlinf;  whirlwind  leaped  from  far; 
It  laughed  to  feel  the  liglitning's  scar  ; 
The  gullying  waters  swept  the  glen; — 
All  !  but  the  Pine  was  joyous  then  ! 

My  Life  '.  be  like  the  Mountain  Pine, 
That  takes  the  rock  to  be  a  shrine  ; 
It  little  needs,  it  all  secures; 
It  thrives,  it  concjuers,  it  endures  ; 
It  rounds  itself,  in  its  its  content ; 
Uprightness  is  tlie  course  it  meant  ; 
Though  fed  on  granite,  softly-sweet  ; 
And  with  restricted  bound,  complete. 

My  Soul  !  be  like  the  Mountain  Pine, 
With  breathing  of  the  wind  divine. 
In  whispers  deepening  at  each  close, 
And  answer,  as  it  comes  and  goes  ; 
That  myriad  harp  aeolian  seems 
Touched  with  the  music  of  our  dreams  ; 
So  wildly  vague,  so  awful-rare, 
It  tells  me  Uod  is  speaking  there  ! 

SPEAK,   THEN  ! 

'  PEAK,  if  you  must,  and  speak  the  needed 
\  word  ; 

But,  'midst  this  Babel,  will  your  voice  be 
beard  ? 


®ftp  StrSfl  (if  ®fjp  c2raaa.    207 


■111, . 

-N'oruav 
M;iii,l. 


>'>J;W'r;(;iAN   Naiional 


AIMK  I, 

i,';ittli. 


IIY.MN. 


:i  rflldfiiiiu  nf    Iln'    M.iii,       1    It 
corniiiri,,!;     (J         ^'lH'Miiil    llviMrir)( 
'"■""""'"^'"K'l.l.lk.,Mu„,l  (<,„,■„ 


iy-  l"ve  our  own  Norse  Coiintrv 
J     U'T  thousand  lion.es  we  love'- 
Furrowed  and  weather-beaten   ' 
"er  front  doth  forward  move' 
We  love  our  own  (ireat  Mother, 
Who  gave  us  noble  birtii —' 
We  love  her  songs  and  sagas 

llfr  dreams  that  gild  the  earth. 
The  Country  saved  by  Ilarald 
•i"<i  his  ranked  warriors  — ' 
Tlie  Land  that  Haakon  guarded  - 

<)nr  love  and  praise  be  hers  '  ' 
WliereOivind  once  recited 

The  runes  of  ancient  time, 
The  uloryofher  captains, 

Her  men  of  deeds  sublime. 
We  love  our  own  Norse  Country  _ 

Kor  her  our  Fathers  stood,-   ' 
i  he  Land  where  Olaf  painted 
The  hallowed  Cross  with  blood  • 

Where  from  the  height  spake  Sve;re 
—Tisf  enslaving  Rome  ;— 

9  our  rugged  Country, 

guard  our  Northern  Home 


We 


M 


208    ilf?  'Mxhz  ®if  Uysfs  (txBBB. 


hONG  OK  TIIK    CAMl'F.lt, 

ll<i  !    (nr  tlir  vvinids- 


.* 


^?(>  !  fcir  tlie  wixxU 

Ki)  iiian's  cheer  ■ 

(       The  rod,  tli«  litle.  ami  the  litjht  <'Hiiiie  ; 

The  swift  pursuit  <'f  carilxMi  anil  ilier  , 
Tli«  Hash  of  sainiiiii  frcjiii  tin    li(|iiiil  hhie  : 
Weloine,  to  otir  retreat,  ye  jovial  few. 

In  this,  the  merriest  heyday  of  the  year  I 

Ho  !  for  the  rush  of  the  (lesceiiiliii)!  stream, 
Rrlglit  in  the  inor::inf;  beam  '. 

Ho  1  for  the  shouting  urew,  the  ecMoin({  shore! 

The  rifle's  crack,  aniiil  the  vocal  glailes  ; 
The  torrent's  Ion);  reverberating  roai  : 
The  flash  of  flying  gems  from  paddle  hlaiies; 
The  hush  of  twilight;  the  brown,lengtheiiiiig 
sliailes  ! 
Welcome  !  the  song,  tl\e  chorus,   Hie  <  tnurf  .' 
Tlie  tale  of  awe,  tlie  iangliing  repaitee— 
The  evening  jollity  ! 

Ho  !   for  the  camp  !  Ho!  for  the  houglij  bed  1 
The  welcoming  ttrelight's  gleam  reflected  far. 

O'er  glassy  lake,  and  leafy  tents  oerhead  : 
Ho  I  for  companionship  of  moon  and  star. 
Where  sandy  coves  and  pebbly  beaches  are  I 

Welcome  :  the  sylvan  board  at  evi  iiing  spread, 

Wlien  merry  hunters  from  tlieii   spoils  relinn, 
To  bid  the  camp-flre  burn    I 

Ho  !  for  the  promised  season  of  delight ! 
Leave  we  our  plodding,  leave  our  cares  be- 
hind ; 


®I?r  Sirda  (§f  ®Ij*  CEroaa.    209 

«.ome     ye  to  N.ture  genially  inclined, 

T.   tlie  free  life,  ,|.e  sylvan  »o„nd  and  .igl.t 
'!.«  f-.resf.  fortune,  and  ti.e  lake's  care'r- 
Tlie  cliarni  of  all  tlie  Year. 


THANKS,  KOK  THE  VEARS  ' 

Arc),..  F,  I...„„„„n  .    ,T  ,  '  ''^-fh.er,  KdUh,  (M„. 

read.  ■".'•>,  thi    l,.||„„,,n,  i,„,.s  „,,^^ 

J3|?HANKS,  for  the  Yean  < 

^(2)1,6  sun-bright  years,  unstained  by  tear. 

So  n-an/l^f^r  h'a'v':  irUd'"*^'""'"  ^ 
How  other  can  we  but  be  glad  ? 
Grateful,  we  quell  our  carets  and  fears - 
TnankH,fortlir  Yrnrx  ! 

Thanks,  for  the  Years  ' 
All  beautiful  the  Past  appears 
Wearing  our  youth-time,  like  k  crown, 
Or  evening  whan  the  sun  is  down  ; 
With  Love,  like  sweetest  flowers  that  blow, 
And  purer  than  Katahdins, now. 
Where  he  his  hoary  summit  rears  :- 

Thanks,  ftir  the  Yeart! 


210 


M  Uht  Croaa. 


i1 


Thanks,  for  the  Vcarit  ! 
Th«  Future  bears  a  Lamp  tliat  olipers  : 
A  .Sun  h>  liglit«n  us,  and  warm  : 
A  Kainliow,  to  d'erspan  tlic  storm  ; 
A  Star  of  Hope,  to  sliinc  afar. 
Above  tbe  sunset's  crimson  bar  : 
Anil  tlie  blanil  heaven  its  aspect  clears  :— 

'J'hiiiikx,    fur  till     Yiiirx! 

Tlianks,  for  the  Years  I 
Each  in  its  passing  more  endears  ; 
And  tender  tliought  and  sweet  emotion 
Come  with  them,  like  the  surge  of  Ocean  ; 
And  if  sometime  may  sorrow  lull. 
We  to  each  other  still  will  call, 
And  cry  to  Him  who  pityinj;  liears  : — 

Tliitiiku,  fnr  itir  iir<irs  ! 

Thanks,  for  tlie  Years  '. 
All  brave  and  Meet  as  charioteers  ; 
And,  like  our  nillnw-fringed  Kiver  • 
Steadfast,  serene,  and  failing  never, 
Still  may  they  onward  smoothly  glide. 
To  Life's  resplendent  eventide  ; 
Then  may  we  sing  from  Heaven's  high 

spheres, — 

Thitiik>i,/()r  the  j/erirK  .' 
•  The  Crmncctiiul. 


u 


^t  Hhha  m  aiPjr  azma.    211 

I  can  „„  u.ugers,,  the  Almo.ul  and  ()](,«  ■ 
N    n.„r..  CO,.,.,  the  scent  of  ...yria.l  spu^y  rose.  • 
Nolon«er,takenoteo,then„eso;  «»::,;;• 

And  Kve,.i„e  comes  fast  upon  me,  laden  with 
tears. 

Oiir  Sister  Is  gone  ' 

T..Chi,doftheKaseandt,.eWes.o„rSi„,er 
A  soft  and  gentile  sur  hath  set  in  the  Pacific 

""'"  ""''^'rei't^-frX':''' '"'''•«'''''-- '-'- 

The  light  out  of  the  friendly  Window  is  taken 
away  • 

No  smiling  face  looks  forth  at  morning 
No  salutation  is  waved  from  the  door. 


Author  of  '■Legends.  I. 


tifT  Pine  0,.., I  p 


lini."    She 


■vrics,  and  Sonnets,"  an 


w  us  a  native  ot  Oi 


id"Un. 


Tono,  Maine. 


212    ilfi?  lirSia  (if  iljp  ©roaa. 


I" 


We  bear  lier  music  in  tlie  purl   of   wnodland 

brooks, 
In  the  wordless  cliinie  of  s«a  wave  and  inoiint- 

ain  torrent, 
In  the  thrush's  aerial  bell  tolled  in  the  cedar 

vale  : 
VTe  see  her  aspiring  beauty  in  the  star,  and  i" 

tlie  curve  of  the  rainbow  ; 
We   see   her  tranquil  and  shining  spirit  in  the 

sheen  of  a  sunset  sea. 

Everywhere  saw  she  God, 

Everywhere  listened  to  His  voice  ; — 

Heard  it  in  the  vesper  chapel  of  tlie  pines,  at 

the  time  of  the  evening  breeze  : 
Heard  it  in  the  roar  of  the  Sierras; 
The  midnight  litany  of  cascaded  Yosemite  ; 
In  the  beat  of  Ocean  on  the  cliffs  of  Monhe- 

gan;— 
Heard, — and  the  music  entered  into  her  Soul, 
To  sweeten  and  deepen  her  Song, 

Toll  her  a  joyful  knell,  ye  Bangor  Bells  ! 
Toll  her  a  funeral  glee,  ye  Bells  of  Los  Angeles  1 
Answer  the  Bells  of  the  City  of  God,  for  they 

peal  joyously  ! 
Our  Sister  is  liberated. 
No  longer  she  looks  to  the  mountains  whose 

gateways  ope  toward  her  loved 
Norembega  ; 
No  more  her  homesick  heart  shall  pine  in  the 

invalid's  chair,  t 

t  So  a  friend  found  her  in  her  cottiige  at  Los  Gwds  ;  and 
coming  away  he  plucked  some  oranjje  blossonis  fnom  her 
garden,  a  few  of  which  he  sent  to  me. 


i:k'  lir?ja  m  ®|}p  ©roaa.    213 

Fro.  the  WesUo^U.e  .ast  neve^.o^T..;. 

Nortende.  tl.oughtjrom  the  East  to  the  West 

Onlj  from  out  the  sky  the  elean,  r.f  . 

wliite  hand        *  ^  "  ''*^*'^ 

Y«t  the  Land  of  the  dusk-browed  Orono  ^  can- 

not  forget  the  Singer  '' 

Who  sang  his  legended  glories- 

"'°"^""'%l';K'r-^-"i'.ern.tive 
Thou,  Piscataquis,  chattering  overthy  pebbles 

,,      ""'^""wnf^roSltbr''-''^- 

Thou...ack^Cap,^,,,,/,t,^;-^^^ 

CastiuH,  and  ye  Desert  Isle,  her  name  i»  writ- 
ten  upon  you  ;  " 

Penobscot  breathes  a  kIctH  .•„!.■ 

his  sandy rehT.nda';^nr,t'  "*"" 
steepy  shores ; 

Katahdin  utters  a  moan  ,  Kineo  lets  fall  a  tear- 
Wh.le  far  .„  theSouth  the  Palm  tree  answers' 

to  the  Pme  tree's  lamentation. 
They  of  her  own  Land  are  saying  — 
Whither    has  she  gone,  our  soft^voioed,  our 

white-hearted,—  ' 

Whither,  with  Israfll,  her  beloved  ? 
Where  is  she  who  sang  the  Song  of  Kinalo  ? 

nLllVn:''-"    "-'""'    ^'"'    «"-    »-    —.e     to    he. 


214 


im  9 


%ht  Cfl 


ft  ; 

m  ' 

It  ^' 

1.  : 


Where  is  <mr  Kxile  beyuiid  the  Western 
M'lUiitaiiis  '.' 

Wliere  is  she  who  thru'  tlie  hoiiiesicli  weari- 
ful day  was  ')»///  iraHin;/ 

For  the  glimmer  of  sniiset  ? 

And  a  Voice  out  of  the  Sunset  replies  : 

She  in  (/iitii  : 

Our  Sister  of  the  s»  eet  voice  sings  lui  more  ; 

Our  Daughter  (jf  the  lieantiful  Word  has  de- 
parted ! 


Rest  thee,  blest  Hiiirit  I 

Stilled  on  Ijeath  s  river  tlie  turbulent  foam  : 

Thou  bast  arrived  at  thy  permanent  home  ; 

Thou  dost  inherit 

The  house  whose  foundation  securely  is  laid  ; 

Thy  scope  is  yon  cope — 

Theazuie,  the  infinite  dome. 

Rest  tliee,  blest  Spirit  1 

Thy  brow  lias  the  garland  of  merit ; 

Tliy  song  is  the  Song  of  Salvation  I 

Thou   seest  thy    Savior,    thou    markest  the 

wounds 
Of  His  love  and  His  passion,— and,  hark  : — it 

resounds, — 
Iloxninn"  1  Hosdntxi  ! 
From  the  tongues  of  a  glorified  nation  ! 

Rest  thee,  blest  Spirit  I 

Sadness  and  sorrow  can  never  invade 

The  hearts  habitation  : 

No  mornings  that  break 


Mhe  mixha  m  ms  ^xobb.    215 

«liall  have  pcwer  to  wake 

Tlie  tn,n.-,.  wl,„.se  jjlad  rapture  l.ati,  blest  tl.ee- 
I  lie  peace  sliall  „eer  cease 
TliatHi.v  lieartdotli  pervade 

raat  with  its  soft  l.andl.ath'caresse,]  thee; 
A".l  thy  heart  hath  forgotten  to  ache 

With  the  antheming  throng, 
Thon  takest  thy  place  ■ 

With  (mmI's  light  on  thy  face, 
Ihou  j.,ii,es.t  the>ong. 

And  the  garment  of  white  doth  invest  thee 

/i  I  St  thf  t\ — 

/.■'«/  ^/„,._ 

Rest  ! 

No  tears,  no  woes,  no  night  ' 

'■''"' '""'d:Hgh7!''''""''"^**'-^^ 

Eiiti  ,■  thii  ,■(  st  > 


MAKCIIINC;   SONG 

©STKIKK,  ye  brave,  and  strike,  ye  trne  • 
There  s  a  l,igl,  mark  set  before  ye  "     ' 

Answer,  my  heart,  to  ,he  calif,  r7o,;- 
To  the  bugle-note  of  Glory  !  ' 

Th.  t/u.ro.,i  I.:  Uusty  and  rnu.jU  an./  'L„  ■ 
And  thr  ljnrj/,-i,r„(e  of  Gl„r)/.' 


216    ®l!fi?  lir&a  (iJ  Sljr  fflroaa. 


f: 

f 

!    ; 

1.^ 

" 

' 

-    \ 

O  strike,  ye  brave— O  strike,  ye  true  ! 

Till  the  heart  of  a  wrong  be  riven  : 
Be  not  content  witli  an  arrow  or  two,^ 
Let  a  dozen  home  be  driven  ! 
O  march  along— O  march  along,— 
Let  the  hand  be  read//,  the  heart  be  utrong; 
O  march   to   the  tramp   n/  the  marching 

throng. 
To  the  sound  of  the  cheer,  and  the  sound  of 
the  nong. 
And  the  bugle-note  of  Glory! 

O  strike,  ye  brave— O  strike,  ye  true  I 

Like  the  Captains  of  old  story  : 
Empty  your  quivers,  like  men  who  drew 
Their  bow  upon  Evil  hoary  ! 
Andmarch  r'.ong—O  tnnrch  along,— 
To  the  trumpet-blare,and  the  clang  of  gong, 
March  on  to  the  battle  with  ranking  Wrong, 
For  we  move  thro'  strife  toward  the  Land 
of  Song, 
To  the  bugle-note  of  Olorji ! 

MOTHER  !  MOTHER ! 

Mother  !  Mother  !  wh«t  is  this  ? 

Anna  Boynton  Averill. 

lOTHER  !  Mother  !  what  is  this  ! 
Silence  on  thy  lips  to-day, 
Paleness  on  thy  cheek !    Ah,  say. 
Whither— whither  art  thou  gone  ? 
— To  that  lovely  Land  of  Dawn 


®f  ®ST  HmsB.    217 


;■  that  Un,l„fl{e.t  ami  Clieer, 
Al    l,a    l.,„Ktl,eir),.art,]..si.,..i 

M-  tl„.,-  .  wl.at  is  tins  strangH  sleep 

a    l,aU,  ,Ha  U,eO,.art  an' ,,an., - 
What,  tl.at  lasting  silence,  ,ieei, 

Wliich  we  cannot  un.lerstami  - 
M'.tl.er  .'  MotLer  !    wl.at  is  tl.is  ■> 
*"""' "'at  snowy  April  day 
T1.0U  l,ast  vanisl.ed  quite  away. 
WHir  know  the  lone  l.ilLside 
Where  our  ,,aited  kin  abide 
Often,  w),en  the  grass  is  green 

Often,  when  the  daisies  blow, 
Otwh.„orin,son  leaves  are  seen. 
Oft,  when  drifts  the  winter  snow 
Hakeful,  on  n,y  conch  of  pain 
I  survey  the  place  again, 
I  salute  eaeli  sacred  mound  - 

Moop  to  kiss  the  hallowed  ground. 

fir.    I     Irroinr    *.l _ 


Yet  I  ki 


low  thou  art  not  there 


And  my  eager  lieart  cries 
Silence— vacancy  :    I 


-  IV/icr(  / 


What  my  heart 


-Moth. 


so  ill  can  spare  I 


T  !   Mother  !    what 


is  thi 


But  I  will  not  dream  of 


woe. 


•^iicli  as  cannot  pass  away 


218    ilii?  'Siarto  ®f 


l.t 


Nur  uC  ttjiupest  witlxiut  calm, 
Niir  of  grief  witliutit  its  balm  : 
Tlioii  liast  reached  the  purer  (lay. 
Where  no  darkness  may  befall  ; 
And  the  Li>rd,  who  hivetli  all, 
Careth  for  us — sees  and  liears, 
And  will  mark  our  falling  tears. 
Thdu  art  in  the  Land  of  Love, 
Thou  art  in  the  Home  above. 
Where  the  (iood  foreve'-  be, 
Where  the  Happy  welcome  thee  '. 
Far  from  sorr<iw,  far  fr(»m  pain. 
There,  when  we  shall  meet  ajjain. 
May  I  cry.  in  maze  of  bliss, 
Motlirr!  Miif)ipr  !    irliiil  is  tliiit.' 


V  til 


I    !• 


l\   I 


I 


TII.\NKS  FOR   yoUR  &ON(i 

TO  I)K.  HKNJAMIN  F.  l.KOOKTT,*  OK    WAllI),    PA. 

UPON  HAVIN'(i    KKCh:lVKI>    A  COl'i'  OK 

Ills  "OIT  DOOK  POEMS." 

■^"^IIANKS,  for  your  song,  my  brotlier  I    I've 

^J  listened  your  word  of  cheir, 

^"^  And  dreamed  the  dream  of  yourspirit  tliro" 

many  a  varying  year  ; 
You  have  led  me.  and  1  have  followed,  as  one 

who  has  little  care. 
Hut  in  paths  of  sweetness  and  safety,  and  by 

waters  still  and  fair  ; 
You  have  taught  me  the  joy  of  the  faithful,  tlie 

the  earnest  of  all  things  pure. 
The  pleasures  that  do  not  perisli,  tlie  joys  tliat 

ever  are  sure, 

•  Author  of  "  A  Sheaf  nf  Scma"  ;  "A  T:  airip  In -wit. 
.^erlaiid;"  "  Aii  Idvt  of  i.jkt*  tfCorirt',  "  and  oilier  works. 
There  is  also  rfreri-nr.'  to  some  fraternal  stan/as  w-itten 
hv  Dr.  I.c'jL^e't.  and  sent  to  the  author  in  response  to  his 
son^'entitlr<l,     ■  Old  .St    Andrews." 


iijf  Sirda  ®f  ®ll|f  Craaa.    219 


The  peace  ..(  the  heart  of  Nature,  of  valley  and 
mountain  dome  ^ 

The  wide  wild  Jojs  of  the  woodland,  and  the 
tender  joys  of  home. 

Thanks,  for  your  Sony,  „,y  UotI.e,  ;  You  lu.n 

my  tlK.ughts  awav 
lo  scenes  that  lie  in  the  distance,  and  deeds  of 

an  earlier  day 

"  '"""aiToVn"  '"-'■' "''^  ^'^'""-"f  '"ve 
ana  of  poesy, 

In  a  quaint  old  town  that  lieth  adown  hv  the 
summer  Sea  :  ' 

The  wharves  and  the  roofs  and  the  spires  I  see 
them  as  in  that  day,  ' 

The  ruddy  bluffs  and  the  beaches,  and  the  sun- 
ny  waves  of  the  Hay  ; 

The  coves,  the  mountains,  the  lighthouse  the 
.i^teamer,  making  the  pier,— 

Your  genie-song  sings,  pr>,<to .'  and  lo :  the  vis- 
ion IS  here  ! 

Thanks,  for  yo>.r  song,  my  brother  !    You  tell 
A    J  .V.     u  "''y  "'«  «<=«"«  'S  dear.  " 

And  the  halo  of  memory  deepens  thro'  shad 

owy  year  on  year  ;  "° 

For  you  know  the  bliss  of  the  lover,  and  to 
TK        1    ,°''**"'  you  are  notafraid. 
Though  the  world  may  scoft  at  a  graybeard 

who  goes  siahing  back  to  a  maid 
Ah .  we  remember  the  lo„|ing  of  WeTo 'the 

aranght  divine. 
Before  the  hour  that  witnessed  aloud- T-Ao?/ 

And  to-day  we  declare  thaton  earth,  or  beyond 
T».»      .      '"  ""^  heavens  above,  ^       ' 

Tfiere  is  nothing  purer  nor  sweeter  than  a  wo 
man's  wonderful  love 


220    iit|i?  lirda  (®f  y;!|?  (^mzB. 


Thnnks  (or  your  song,  my  hrotlier  :  May  Soiij; 
and  hove  remain, 

As  long  as  yon  walk  in  tlie  siinsliineor  feel  tlit- 
toucli  of  the  rain  : 

To  life's  utmost  liour  may  musk-  in  your  inner- 
most heart  ahide, 

And  the  feet  of  a  gentle  woman  ^i,  Iravellin); 
by  your  si<ie  : 

And  when  for  uslife'santhem  isdrawiiif;  to  it's 

close. 
And  the  eyes  of  lover  and  singer  shut  to  tlieir 

long  repose. 
May  they  ope  on  the  grand,  sveet  Vijion,  and 

lind  the  same  joys  to  be 
On  Heaven's  eternal  Mountain,  as  down  by  our 

Summer  Sea. 


TO   WINDSOR,  NOVA  .S(;()TIA. 

IPON  ITS    PAKTIAI.  DKsrlil  (TroN    IIY   KIKK. 

©UT  of  thine  ashes  phoenix-like  arise. 
My  fair  Acadian  town  I     Tis  good  to  know 
Tliat,  like  the  wind-swept  tianie  that  laid 
thee  low. 
Aspires  thy  courage.     Thou  slialt  realize 
That  vantage  of  misfortune,  the  emprize 
Of  hardy  spirits  toiling  against  fate. 
Yet  shall  be  thine  a  goodly,  high  estate 
In  years  to  nome,  'neatli  thineauspioiousskies. 
Rise,  then, triumphant!  Hope  will  bid  thy  spires 
Again  point  whither  thy  true  hearts  ascend  1 
Rise,  purified  and  garnished  from  thv  fires  ! 


^h$ 


®f  S>%  Cmsa.    221 


St 

She ^ 


fend  ■  '     ""  '"»"•'  walls  (le. 

T,.„v,  '  ^       ■'"'>'»-">>   fair    Ac»,lia,; 


■niK  I'OKT.v,  FAUKWKLL 

tair  was  tile  twilitrhf   ..ui     .. 

Its  rlsl„p,a,;!tf-r:,;^:;;;--..  tender, 
Fair  was  tliy  olia.igef,,!  .,rh  ,  f        i'. 

"Q..e.   --fu:;e:;i,a[,ri;-'-:;^;;^ 

And  thn,„be^,f,.r,.,n.  each  m,wer-spri„kled 
F.,r,whe„,,i.,,eartwasmtedt,.U,y„,o„„t. 


To  War  their  piny  har,,s  at  play 
ho  heard  so    well  ■'      [j,,*-    _k  ,•' 

mysti 


Who 
Oth 


ye  ]iilis,  ye 


le  heard 
Wlien 


rrts  ye  say  : 
your. oice,0  Sea!  His  Soul  did  bor. 


your 


dPep  organ  peaJed  on  high, 


222    ®l!|if  'MlxhB  ©f  oiljj  €mm. 


»U 


Kriim  inoaniii);  waves  tlit<  syiiihul  nf  all  M>rni  w, 
TliH  liauiitiii);  accvnt,  the  eternal  sigh 

Tears  till  their  eyes  by  his  iiiaj*-sti<.'  river,* 
Where  walked  the  brcitlier-ix  et»  tnaiii  ;  t 

Others,  may  sing  (Hir  songs,  hnt  /ir  will  never 
Charm  iis  witli  the  ohl   wituhery  again. 

And  well  lie  hived  yi)ii,  Krienils,  whose  fund  re- 
plying 
T<"    rve  ott  gave  assurance  new  : 
Ye  11  .  I'lia  bard  behived,  whose  song  undying 
Shall  charm  the  land  where  late  he  said, — 
Ailitii! 

Rut  Lnve and  8ong  with  him  are  still  victorious: 
On  that  white  shore  his  music  sweet 

So'indeth  to  Beauty,  showing  ever  glorious 
The  stately  stepping  of  her  radiant  feet. 

There  look  (or  liim,0  wee  ping  wife  and  mother; 

Ye  little  children,  in  your  tears  I 
Ye  poets,  lonely  left  without  your  brother  I — 

Tour  minstrel's  memory  his  song  endears. 

"Farewell,"  he  sighed,  "ye  hopes  I  once  would 
cherish. 
When  hearts  were  light  and  fancies  new  ; 
Ye  dreams,  like  gorgeous  flower*  that  bloom 
to  perish. 
Ye  lingering  loves,  a  fond  and  last  adieu  1 " 

•    The  Ottawa. 

t    Lamptnan  and  Duncan  Campbell  Scott. 


■<l*iV  atrda  m  a;.V  Croaa. 


223 


ON  A  Sl'KINi;   Mornim; 

@KI'..ITKN,.)l,a,.  :   l.iul.ten,  ...  s,.„  • 

filittt-r  and  run, 
<>.vsilv..r.crinkl.(i  streams  ' 
Waken  from  your  «i,.t^rd„g„ 

OKarth;    Hear. ;od.sKr..at  word,  and  Mf. 
,    and  gladness  tind  ' 

Now,  over  fields  wide-wineinp 

O  birds,  till  all  the  air  w,tl,  jocund  singing: 
^or  now,  at  last, 

The  stormy  Winter  is  over  and  past  ' 

The  cloudH^do  soften,   the  leaves  are  „pand. 

And  <»<^^''an;>^.w  speaks  in  a  tone  less  command. 

The  swallows  are  glancing  on  every  hand. 
And  the  so„n.l  of  the  turtle  is   heard    in  the 
land. 
A  wakened  world  Is  on  the  wine  - 
And,  hark  I    I  hear  the  blue-bird  sing 
//  ix  SpHn,,  :  It  i,  Sprin;,   < 

IN    ARCADY 

-.^HKNUV  W.  „„,.K  AN,>  c.AKLKS  „.    COI.UNS. 

KviH^^i*'"'*'  '",'  ^""""^^  ""«■  sojourning  ' 
^V.th  charmed  hands  the  hallowed  bfead 
,     .         ,  .y*"  break. 

In  jo.v  that  one  doth  from  his  fellow  take 
That  he  again  an  answering  joy  maT  brina 
Marry  your  souls  with  Tr.ft?.'f  c^fe^t'-XIng, 


224    m^»  Itrda  ®f  Ulqe  ©roaa. 


Iff 


Wliilff  Nature  snals  the  .swunt  scilc iiiiiit.>. 
And  Paints*  soft  waters  wander  placiiil^. 
And  smile,  o  erswejit  l.>  many  a  );l»n<:iri|>  »  in(;. 
Hark  :  oer  tliecliiTs  the  fays  are  vviii>|icrin(;. 
Under  the  laiiijhiiiy  leaves  chisterinn  u|,arl  : 
The  dens  and  eaves  witli  a  wiiii  music  nnc. 
Wliile  forest  elves  before  your  f.iitsti  |is  sisiii  ; 
—Or,  hear  I  human  tones  if  iliose  ulio  sini' 
The  old,  "  old  songs,  the  music  of  the  heart'.'" 


•    A 

landC. 


ricKi.\<;  TiiK  i'K,\ii> 

k  lil.rillK,    111.- joyous  n.olniIl^^ 
/      When  the  ripening  time  is  <i»  ne. 
Anil  all  the  frayraut  orelmrd 

Is  meliowin);  in  the  sun  : 
When  purjile-vested  Autumn 
His  sweetest  aspect  wears. 
And  the  hamls  are  out  and  ready 
Kor  tlie  i>ickine  of  the  peais, 

()  tile  liloNSoMi-time  is  beauteous. 

When  the  piar  tree,  like  a  bride. 
Odorous  as  with  airs  of  Eden, 

Decks  herself  in  pearly  pride  : 
When  Hope  blooms  with  every  l)lossom. 

That  tlie  vernal  season  bears. 
As  we  think  of  fruitful  Ar.tumn. 

And  the  picking  of  the  pears 

And  in  long  days  of  Summer. 

When  the  warm  West  wind  heaves. 
With  a  rustling,  mirtliful  music. 

Her  soft  garniture  of  leaves  : 
Fair  the  glancing  lights  and  shadows, 

beautiful  river  in  the  cliOaiui  cavedistrict  of  Hi^li. 
lUiitv.  Snnthern  Ohio, 


4i.ifif  ')ium  ifiif  42»ljp  ibroflfi.    225 


AikI  tli«  liKlitsuiiii-  iwiiikliii((  air.s  ; 
Fo'  tliey  hriiij,'  ilin  ({laii  time  iiraini 
Ami  the  (liL-kjiij;  I.I  tlic  iuai>. 

When  tim  golncn   tliriiil,  is  .Mii);iii);. 
Anil  tlif  twittriiiij(  .swalli.H    llii-s 
Wlieii  the  liaiiK-biiil  U.i„    tl„.  I,iaiii  lies 

Hi.s  KlilUuiif;  .■.laittie  (.liis  : 
Wlien  the  tiiiiililiii)>  bohnlink  .s  lauKhtHi 

»V»ki  .s  tl]i   iinailii«  liiiawait  >  . 
.>iM.ii  tlie  Klad  tiiue  will  Ije  ci.inii]). 
Koi  the  pickin!:  of  tiie  |iear>. 

Come,  n..w,  iiij  grave,  liaik  i;ii,  iia 

(  cimi-  iiiiw,  luiKht  Hi  sali.-  : 
The  yeliDw-tiiitiil  heaiuii.s 

llaiii;  liijjlj  oil  ever*    tree  : 
Aiidcome,  my  limlier  Harold, 

'I'lie  topmost  liraiiili  who  dares, 
\Vit)i  lia^kitaiid  willi  ladder. 

For  Ihe  pii:kiii(;  of  tlie  pears  '. 

Last  year  eamr'  Pearl  and  Knhy, 

And  Itiiih,  and  Little  .fcdiii- " 
Hut  the  sw.-et  Child  of  I'ity 

Korevi  I  ni.\v  i-  ^>oiie  ; 
One  thought,  amid  mirth  s  madnes.i 

To  the  friends  of  <,tlierwheres  :- 
We  must  drop  the  tear  of  inenu.ry 

At  the  piekinp  of  the  pi  ars. 

The  Autumn  leaves  are  flyinp. 

The  hoar-frost  bites  the  lawn  ■ 
The  l)iiBle-call  of  Winter 

Sounds  in  tlie  early  dawn  : 
Thank  (;<„■,  forgathered  harvests. 

And  the  g,,o,|  tliat  each  one  sliares  ! 
And  for  Love,  that  makes  us  joyful. 

At  the  picking  of  the  pears  I  ' 


226    ilfip  Mixha  (if  ®Iir  t^maa. 


ii 


"FOLLOW  THE  (iLKAM.' 

W®)^^  sliould  we  f.,llow  every  wandering 

TlieStar  that  led  tlie  Sages  tlinuigli 
the  night, 
And  brouglittliem  safely  to  tliVirSiPiilsdisire, 
Will  lend  our  wayward  feet  its  certain  light! 

No  marsh-boiu  gleam  tiiward  which  we  vain- 
ly grope, 

No  midnight  meteor  falling  from  afar,— 
Illusive  mocker  of  adventurous  Hope,— 

Can  ligl't  us  like  that  well-appointed  Star  I 

For  how  shall  travellers  the  desert  dread, 
Falter  fordoubt,  or  haiite  for  fear,  their  flight, 

Who  watch  thatazure  palace  overhead, 
Wheru,  millii>nlit,sits  Stella,  beaming  bright, 

Saying  to  those  whose  eyes  with  tears  are  dim, 

"He  Cometh !  Let  the  w^orld  be  glad  for  HIM  I" 

THE   DKKAM-DOOR. 

TN  the  time  of  gray  hairs.and  dimming  eyes, 
<JWhen  all  the  house  was  silent. 

And  the  spectral  leaves  rustled  not. 
And  all  but  the  voice  of  the  brook  had  left  my 

ear; 
When  alone  I  sat  in  my  chair  by  tlie  window. 
And  saw  theeveningstarahove  the  beltof  snn- 

set. 
And   mused    on    sainted  loves  and   liallowed 

faces. 
Until  I  slept: 

Then  came  one  gently  knocking  al  the  Dream- 
door  : 
My  heart  leaped,  my  pulse  quickened  ; 


ifiip  MuhB  (®f  iljip  (gmm.    227 

nine  and  s<ift  were  her  eves 

^fj;^:;MS:^--?:;^::;^:--aseern„, 

A«1nV7  ''""'■"^  '""■'  '^"•^  ««  f'"I  nf  cold 

As  m  the  years  when  last  I  saw  it  -f 

The  years  when  mine  was  dark 

Then  when  I  looked  upon  my  Father's  face    it 

w.f>,  I  ^''^  ™^'""'  "'■"•  joy,.-,        ^^-  " 

With    ove  was  it  transfle„red  • 

And  the  H,hmat  shone  there  was  the  li^ht  I 

When  on  the  horder  of  two  worlds  we  parted. 

Then  a  mingled  thrill  of  joy  and  of  pain  smote 

throngh  me,  ^       smote 

And  to  clasp  him  r  tried,  and  I  cried  aloud.  "O 

Hft  looked  at  me  sw«etlv,  hnt  s^yx^^^^^a 

And  then  hestoo^am;.--r.S-;,, 

As  I  had  -- Hmjook^in  the  years  that  are 

Thin-Ms  :i*L"t''c;?nre7*''*  "'"•''■*''"*• 
The  forms  of  hoth  grew  thin  and  dim  till  thev 
vanished  away. 

And  now,  when  the  nream-door  was  eloMd 

And  T  was  fnlly  awake, 

I  sat  with  a  bnrning  heart. 

And  my  eyes  were  nplifted  to  the  stars  ; 


228    ihe  la-te  (if  ibu  Cr^aa. 


My  spirit  arose  lil<e  ttie  lark  wlien  lie  springs  to 
iiiet't  the  SUM  o'er  tlie  nioniitain  : 

And  with  a  glaiicK  at  tlie  past  and  :i  longinK 
gazt-  into  the  future. 

My  lieart  was  no  longer  lonely,  no  longer  sor- 
rowful. 


TlIK  CHILDLKSS 


ll  1      ^'*'*  wrought  t 


IS  her  nimble  hand 

to  deck  the  I'liristnias 


And  she  had  lauglied  among  her  girls 
With  girlisli  gaiety. 

They  were  her  pets,—  her  Sabbath  (.'lass. 
All  lasses  bright  of  sweet  sixteen  : 

Together  they  the  chancel  hung 
With  sprays  of  holly  green. 

She  had  sent  loving  gifts  of  cheer 
To  some  in  poverty  who  bide  ; — 

Sweet  flowers,  and  sweeter  words,  to  such 
As  Fortune  bad  denied. 

Then  while  the  twinkling  neighbor-stars 
'Mid  the  blue  dusk  did  smiling  meet, 

Slie  went  to  her  own  silent  bouse 
Along  the  silent  street. 

She  saw  the  many-lighted  homes. 
Where  everything  was  seeming  fair  ; 

•Saw  happy  mothers  smile  serene 
On  happy  children  there. 


il|i?  lirda  ®f  Mhs  ®i'oaa.    229 


slie  lieard  tlicir  ringing  voices  sound, 
She  (^anglit  tli«  merry  note  of  glee  ; 

•She  saw  tlieni  clasp  tlieir  niotlier's  neck. 
And  climb  tlieir  fathers  knee. 

Then  oer  her  shuddering  spirit  rnshed 
A  vision  dark,— a  scene  of  woe  ;— 

An  empty  cradle  hid  away. 
A  grave  heneatli  the  snow. 

Tlien  when  unto  lier  liouse  she  came, 
To  ope  and  shut  the  shadowy  door, 

She  felt  the  old- time  loneliness 
-More  deeply  than  before. 

Over  her  yearnins  spirit  rushed 
A  sudden  flood  of  feeling  wild  : 
"O  (iod,  who  lovest !"  cried  she,  "say, 
Am  I,  indeed,  r/iy  child  ? 

"Then  know'st  thou  whata  mother  feels, 
Whose  heart  has  oeen  so  deeply  riven  • 
O  tell  me  of  the  little  child 

That  once  to  me  was  given  ! 
"  How  like  a  blessed  Paradise 

That  home, "she  cried,  "to-night  must  be 
Where  children  clasp  a  mother's  neck. 

And  climb  a  father's  knee  ! 

My  hungry  heart  with  infant  love 
And  mirth  Thou  hast  notbrightened  so  : 

V  (lod  of  Mothers  !  knowest  Thou 
A  childless  woman's  woe  ?" 


230    iljp  Strta  (if  ii|p  ®ro00. 

There,  crouolied  in  that  unlightt-d  po.mi, 
W  hile  deeper  shadows  round  hercrept. 

The  childless  woman  bowed  lier  liead. 
And  bitterly  she  wept. 

But  soon  she  dashed  away  her  tears 
In  liaste,  as  if  she  deemed  them  shame. 

And  wore  again  a  smiling  face 
Hefore  her  husband  came. 


TO  A  FKIENl) 

AT  THE  HOLIDAY  SEASON,  AFTEB  THE  DEATH 

OF  HIS  WIFE. 

Mrs.  Ada  Waid,  beloved  wile  of  o.  C.  Ward,  died  Mid 
denlyon  het.a,,,,  near  Ellsworth,  wh.le  beinL-  co"eved 
'a^'che^ry^iil/w.  """""  ""»""^"'  '"  »-«-•  ">  ^'^'^ 

THINK    Of  thee,    ray    Friend,    this   sun- 
bright   morning, 
And  tears  come  to  mine  eyes,  that  thine 
o'erflow  ; 
For  she  is  in  my  mind   who,  without  warninc 

Was  reft  from  thee,  a  little  time  ago. 
Sister  of  ours  we  deemed  her— one  beloved, 

Nor  loved  the  less  that  she  is  seen  no  more,— 
To  that  blest  home  herSavior  gave  removed,— 
So  fondly  hailed  at  Christmastides  of  yore. 

Blithe  is  the  morn  that  breaks   her  peaceful 
sl'imber. 
Glad  her  clear  dawning  and  her  matin  glow; 
Angelic  songs,  in  many  a  liappy  number. 
Announced  her  advent  from  this  world  of  woe. 


^¥  ItrfiH  m  sip?  (imaa.    231 

Hook  witho„t-tl,.  sno«- tliecld  earti,  c„VH„ 
"spread  r  """""*  '''  "'"'^'"«  ^''^*''  '■"' 
I  shiver  ;-()„  s„ch  days  o.,r  fancy  h-,vers 
"'""'"  deLd  ""''   "■''"'''""P'   "■•''•   "">•  l>»ried 

And  yet  they  feel  no  nmre  the  fr„sty  rigor  • 
The.rs  is  the  ^ver-sw.etly.tenipered  cJime 
Where  snnlj  faint  not.  bnt  feel  eternal  viifor— 
Yet,  oh:o„r  thoughts  return  to  thatsad  time: 

^'""  ''i.lrmrnV"""''"'*''''^"''-'"'  •^''""- 

Then  birds  sang  sweetly,  all  the  world  seera'd 
say  ; 

She  languished  on  the  road  while  homeward 
coming  ; — 

A  h  !  she  reached  home  before  yon,  on  that  day ! 
^""•''y-  *{;^t  home,  and  sad  thy  heart,  my  bro- 

While  now  returns  the  merrie  Christmastide- 
Yet  think  not  of  ^/,/«  day,  bnt  of  //inf  other 
When  she  shall  be  thy  p„re  celestial  bride. 

O  then,  where  Death  comes  not,  whence  Grief 
IS  banished. 
Where  .Sorrow'  bitter  tears  fall  nevermore 
O  may  we  meet  familiar  faces  vanished 

And  dwell  with  loved  ones  on   that  happy 
shore  !  ^^^ 


232    @te  MxM  (if  Qiljf  Oiwaa. 


SONG 

KHOM  NKIIII.AKIN,   AN   i>KANA(iAN    I.K(iKNI). 

KKAMIN'G  — soft  tlreaniiiig  1 
Siicli  iiiagital  sf«niiiig 
Ti>  biii'l  lis,  were  belter 
Tliaii  the   Mouii's  pearly  fetter. 
Or  the  gold  chain  nf  Uay. 

Dreaming— soft  (Ireaniiiig  : 
Kach  mellow  ray  heainiiig. 
Our  fancy  will  carry 
On  lightsome  wing  aery  :— 
Let  lis  lip  and  away  I 

UNDER  DKATII. 

T  WAS  a  child  who,  at  the  darkest  hour 

*  Of  midnight,  with  cliiird  licart  and  bated 

breath. 
Fell  under  the  vast  Shadow  we  call.  Death, 
Vanquished  alone  by  that  dismaying  I'ower  '. 
Cowering  in  that  dark  cave  I  lay  forlorn, 
'Mid  blight  and  ravin  ;    when  a  Voice  severe 
Spake;    "Of  thy  fond   companions  find    none 

here, 
Where   Silence  dwells,  and    never    wakes  the 

morn." 
There,  in  that  awful  vigil  did  my  So 

Ask  for  life's  longest  lease 

I  since  have  wept. 
And  called  on  Death, where  in  his  narrow  bonus 
Bide  my  companions. 

Now  that  dream  of  dole 
Is  broken  where  Death's  wounded  Conqueror 

slept  : 
Shall  I  not  meet   lihii,    when   the   sunmions 

comes  ? 


;>ul 


mi 


I?p  ©roaa.    233 


o,  Mary  ; 

©ilAKl.'tl.ellotherof  Mothers. 
ri.at  bare  ti.e  Lover.  <,f  „,e     ^^ 

^"^.''7  "'y«""lwl.letJ,ou  fittest 
Bv  h",  V'"  ^i'^'^'Cl.ild  ,,„  t  ,v  knee  ' 
8,  ff»r  '""*'''  <'>"ssand  Cradle  ' 

buffer  me  not  to  despair  • 

Tor  I  was  a  little  baby 
And  my  Mother  held  me  there. 


O  Sou],  take 


THE  SPUE. 

^HOU  dnllard  Heart,  awake  ! 
VS'  ore 

The  s^.^M  ^'^  *  >nimacnlate  virginity,  ' 

The  Earth's  wa.m  beauty.    Th^se  'pure  Joy  i„. 

Indulge  no  shallow  thought,  no  mean  desire 
The  w  *""'"'«d.  Ears  unstopped  !  forthee 
The  World  attuned,  transflg.fred,  hear  and 

What  aodhath^made  and  bless  dtho.mayst 

"°  V^^""„*^""  '^*  ">«  favoring  dav  go  hv 
And  all  Its  golden  freight  slip  in^the  Sea  ? 
The  suns^e^ts  blaze,  the  forests  bloom  for 

^Sou^Vread"  St  2Ti'>  '?  '  ""?  '""^^  ""^  <"«  ' 

What  flowers  a«"L"u  ■''""''*';'  ""'"  knowing 
a.  ""wers  are  wak.ng,  and  what  streams 
are  flowing. 


234  Uhs  Striaa  &f  Mw  Craaa. 


f 


if 


K 


I>)KaFIL. 

^H".   Angel  coiiifs  !     His  ruliv  is  ({rt-y, 
)      ilib  will};:,  are  of  tlic  niuht. 
And  half  liis  fice  is  tiiriieil  away, — 

Hilt,  all  !  liis  lace  ik  hiight  '. 
He  seemed  the  sadile-t  i.tie  who  knew 

And  loved  the  Seiaphini  : 
liut  I  must  haste  to  hid  adieu. 
Anil  go  away  with  Him. 

His  face  Ha  turns — lie  sniiletti  '. 

Was  sunset  e'er  so  fair. 
Or  all  the  lights  of  rainhow  heights 

Piled  in  tlie  golden  air? 
He  speaks  I — was  ever  mnsic 

Of  lyre  so  silver-sweet  ? 
Did  Raphael  mov  •  witli  statelier  grace 

Down  Heaven's  emblazoned  street  ? 

The  Angel  gives  his  hand  to  me,— 

The  Angel  is  my  friend  ; 
He  saith, — "  That  one  who  comes  to  thee 

The  loving  flod  did  send. 
I  come  to  lead  thee  tliro'  Death-Oloom 

To  height  of  ninrv-T.and."  .  . 
Yet  on  this  brink  of  glorious  doom 

Trresolnte  I  stand. 

'"Tis  not  the  marbled  mountains. 

With  icy  spire  and  boss, — 
'Tis  not  the  ruthless  river 

My  Soul  doth  fear  to  cross  : 
I  s'gh  to  loave  mv  dear  ones 

TTpon  the  hither  shore. — 
I  shrink  to  range  the  fields  of  change, 

'\fid  scenes  untried  before." 


QIr0Ha.    235 


"  All  :  dill  you   kiii.w  wliitlirr  yon  eo  -     • 

llie  Angel  softly  said.—  ' 

Vim  would  not  linger  truiihling  so 

N.,r  view  the  way  with  dread  :     ' 
Tlie  old  and  weary  ones  are  free 

From  sorrows  and  alarms  : 
And  little  children  or.nie  to  nie 

And  nestle  in  my  arms. 

"  \o  traee  of  tears  a-falling. 
_  In  all  that  crystal  sphere  ; 
No  cry  of  pain  from  wild  heart  slain, 

Thro'  all  the  blissful  year  : 
The  blessed  ones  tliev  gatlier 

Fpon  that  happy  shore. 
And  wives  the  necks  of  Imshands  clasp 

And  none  shall  part  them  more." 

FRKDKKICK  LAWREXCE  KNOWLES 

INSCHIMKl.      IN     .MY    COI-V     OK    Ills     imOK,      "  ON 
I.IKE'.S     .STAIRWAY," 

^^HIS  is  the  Poesy  of  Love  and  Youth 
{(S)mth  Hope  a-tip-toe,  ( Age  he  never  knew) 
Vet  F?eanty's  holiest  impnlse,radiant  Truth 
iJivinest  V  ision,  'mergent  to  the  view 
Controlled  him. 

tr      J  ■■   ,     ■       .  .'^'''"' tf'Ppefi  ;ip<>n  thedew 
Hand-linke.l   with    Ps.yche,    wh,en    he  lit   the 

morn — 
That  bright  Apollo  I  and  the  Graces   too 
And  Virtues,  came   with  gifts,  when  he  was 

born. 

Celestial   Music  waked  his  infant  heart 
And  whispered  mystic  words  :  "A  holi'erbirth 
Awaits  thee  .  sprinkled  be  tliy  sacred  art 
In  consecration  :  thou  art  not  for  Earth  : 


< 


r 


236    ilff  lirdfl  ®f  W&n  fflroaa. 


'Tis  Heaven  alone  tliat  knows  the  I'oet's  worth, 

'Ti»  Heaven  tliatcalls  for  rapturoui.  minstrelsy; 

Yet,  leave  some  witching  notes  to  charm  their 
deartli. 

Wlien  o'er  tlie  strings  thy  hand  no  longer  wan- 
ders free. 

Thy  unstained  life  was  laid,  like  a  white  flower 
In  the  warm  hand  of  (iod.     His  Angel  said  : 
"  Earth,  view  it«  fairness,  taste  itw  sweet  an 

hour  ; 
Then,  Heaven,   tis  thine.' —And,  lo  \  its  bloom 

is  shed  : 
Rejoice  '.  where  HInssora-Souls  are  gathered, 
Plucked  from  our  blighting  soil,  to  unison 
With  Life,  and  to  Eternal  Heauty  wed. 
Is  he,  whom  we  have  named,  the  Dead, 
And  to  dominion  of  Love's  blissful  Sun. 

We  miss  that  perfect  rapture  from  the  air. 
The  certain  touch  that  couldour  heartenthrall. 
The  daring  word  that  mounts,  to  our  despair, 
When  we  would  answer  to  its  luring  call : 
Lark-like,  or  swan-like  the  rich  bird-notes  all, 
As  when  tlieydrop  lliem.seekingeach  his  nest; 
His  touclies  delicate  as  Angers  fall. 
Of  ■   others,  when  the  babe  is  at  the  breast. 

Apollo,  who  sliall  be  thy  melodist. 
Or  who      all  make  the  Sacred  Muse  liis  care  ? 
Who  shall  improve  the  Pipe,  the  Lyre  assist. 
And  nnrehnked  the  '»ods'  green  laurel  wear. 
To  make  it  brighter?  .  .  . 

Ah  !  swe.'t  lutanist  ! 
The  broken  instrnment  w'ro  shall  repair  ? 
On  Karth  'tis  silent.     But— O  Spirit  blest ! 
That  new  harp  soundeth.  God  hath  given  thee 
there  ! 


^e  lirJa  m  ®Iir  (Bvobb.    237 


LINES 

WRITTRN    IN    A   OUKST-llOOK    FOrND   IN   THB 

OlIAMUEH  OF   A   HBllCNU's    HOUSE, 

IN  WHICH  THK  AUTHOR  SPENT 

THE  NIUHT. 

^  /TJ\  KT  US  not  sleep, 

Y^^Howe'er  with  toils  and  cares  we 
weary  be, 
Until  we  look,  ()  hiving  Lord  !  to  Thee, 
-And  cry,—  "  O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me  ! 
In  Life,  in  Death,  in  Immortality, 
My  Soul  forever  keep  !  " 

THE  FLIGHT  OF  TYRANTS. 

WRITTKN  ON  THE  INTERVENTION  IN  THE  CAUSE 
OF  CUBA. 

If  tht  treat  t'od.  be  just,  thev  shall  assist 
1  hf  deeds  (>i  justest  men. 

Shakespeare. 
^HE  bright  Antilles  shall  be  free,— 
\2)     Columbia  speaks  the  word  ! 
The  Islands  of  the  Kastern  Sea 
Have  Freedom's  bugle  heard. 
Tyrants,  your  destined  hour  is  nigh  ! 
Fieht  ye  like  hawks ;  like  hawks  ye  fly, 
Like  hawks  ye  dart  upon  your  prey.— 
The  weak,  the  faint,  the  helpless  slay. 
Let  Freedom  rise  to  strike  her  blow  !— 
On, — r/o, — f/n  .' 

Ho  !  Tyrants,  leave  your  quaking  thrones 
With  trembling  lips  and  dumb  !  ' 

Rejnire.  ve  People  !  Time  atones  ! 
Rejoice  !     Your  hmir  »'«  rnmr  .' 

The  worth  of  Man  the  Proud  must  lean  : 


238    ®ifr  liriiH  i^f  H^t  CrcBB. 


Yf  liaiiislieil  I'atrint,  rrtiirn  : 
Tim  iirlsiiii  iliMir  lie  (ipeii  tlinnvn  ; 
Ye  li«art  npprfstsfd.  iiii  IciiKer  ^'ri.an. 
<>  je,  who  inalcH  tlieir  hl.inil  t..  11.. w.— 
ft'n,~'-t/'i,      flu   / 

I  liH  tii.M-k.  tlic  vi\-f.  the  kind,  sIirII  rtilc, 
1'lie   prniiil  shull  rule  im  moip  : 

Yciiir  hour  lias  stniclc,  voiir  cup  is  fill, 

Tlit^  niensiiri'  r^imietli  o'er  '. 

Let  (iod  lie  Kini;.      (an  ye  not  see, 

Heyond  Heaven's  azure  canopy. 

How  Mercy  dwells  with  Tower  V  liow  Tove 

Flath  force  the  guilty  to  remove',' 

Resist  not  Him,  whose  rwonI  is  nigli,- 

^^|||.~  11,1.— j\)t : 

Ve  cannot  beckon  back  the  dnw  n. 

Ye  cannot  bar  tlie  day  : 
The  Car  of  Destiny  moves  on, — 

,^nd  will  ye  block  the  way  ? 
Still  in  the  cliariot  of  your  pride 
Will  ye  inglorlously  ride  ',' 
And  shall  not  Christ,  theCaptives  Kiiend, 
Ifis  Faitlifiil  from  your  wrath  'i^fend  ? 
Depart  I  His  prowess  ye  must  know. — 
(7o. — i/it,  —  r/o  ,' 

Your  day  hath  saddened  long  the  sun. 
And  made  the  moon  look  pale  ,- 

Like  mountain  streams  our  blood  has  run. 
To  fatten  every  vale  ; 

Justice  went  startled  from  yourtlirone  ; 

Mercy  and  Rnth  ye  have  not  known; 

For  Comfort,  ye  gave  Misery, 

For  Freedom,  lorn  Captivity; 

fribbetsand  Chains,  for  Liberty  '. 

To  learn  your  duty  ye  are  slow: — 


I  ' 


l£i}S  •inraa  <§i  (!i,i}y  <ii.iom. 


•<o  .  I»t,^i.an,  Turk,  uuU  .\l.i*ci,vite  ' 

•-■'>  :   lyraiiiij  i,i  ftpan,  , 
«»«  :  ye  na  liaiiui,,  tl.ai  l.okl  m,  ritlit  ' 

(i..  :  soau'i.Kl,  km, lit,  aim  cliam  • 
,'".  ■,  >**  >"'"  »i'''  tl'«  liran  t..  Iiau-,- 
IrillMis  and  (lyj,  ,crite»  of  .Mat*- 


..  Im,  I>r..w,  wl,ii«  y„  „.„st  ,.r..a,|,  tli^  Morm 
Aim  (ircMi.ise  wliat  yv  n«  er  perluriii  ' 
llie  wuiii  of  (i„„  bejfiim  to  blow, ^ 

Ke  not  Kevenge  tli«  llf,-,,  s  crv,— 

J  IS  Mrr.  y  bears,  ilm  rod  ; 
Triitli  lometli  duwiiwar.l  from  on  liii;)i 

And  Jnsticn  is  of  (iod. 
Il«  wills  no  Slave  to  trrad  His  Hfld  : 
S„  base  blo,,d  blisters  on  ills  shield  ■ 
Ills  stainless  Hag  goes  lloaliiiK  oer 
llieKladdeninK  seas,  from  shore  to  shore  ; 
lie  bi.lslhe  foes  of  Liberty 

J'o  /■/»■(■,— ki,kk,  —  KLKK: 


KNVOY 

TO     MY    HOOK. 

/^Othou,  th'  eternal  way,  unseen,  unknown, 
V^     Where  oft  my  l|„,,es,  and  oft  my  Fears 

have  Mown  : 
Where  Dreams  have  paled  to  crnmblii.K  noth- 
ingness. 
And  Art  is  perished  in  the  vast  abyss  ' 
^\hat  matter.  Lethes    wave  a  thought  more 

nigli 
Thee  than  another  "-J // „rr  l,„ru  l„  ,hr. 


if 


^ 


